


Lupin's Worst Memory

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-08
Updated: 2005-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Lupin's worst memory was the same as Snape's? After a teenage romance goes awry, Lupin is forced to choose between his friends and his lover.</p><p>~33,000 words. NC-17. Consensual underage sex. May/June 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lupin's Worst Memory

**Prologue: The Pensieve**

He didn't think about Snape anymore, but when he did, he thought about the scars.

There was the long, purple one that curled around his torso, and the smaller ones that dotted his stomach and his back. Those were just the ones on the outside, though, and Remus knew there were scars elsewhere, painful welts of a different kind lanced across his subconscious.

At least, Remus hoped there were – so he could feel a bit better about his own. He needed to believe that Snape had them, too, that Snape still thought about it sometimes, that Snape _felt_.

They had never talked about what had happened, and how could they? How could they. They weren't fated to be together, and they weren't star-crossed. And anyway, they had just been kids. Nothing that happens at that age means anything – not hate, and certainly not love.

Maybe that knowledge was the only way he had been able to forgive his friends for that day – celebrating the end of OWLs, visiting each other over the summer, getting drunk at James and Lily's wedding, promising to look after the baby. Because he knew the hate hadn't been real, hadn't mattered.

Wouldn't it be nice if that were true.

No, he didn't think about Snape anymore. They were not friends; they spoke only when required, and then with careful civility. The past was best left buried, repressed, pounded into dust with a heavy boot. A person should not, under any circumstances, look up at his own fireplace one idle day, and suddenly have to face that past.

~~~~~

"Sirius?"

Remus jumped. "Harry!" he exclaimed, peering into the fireplace. "What are you – what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I just wondered – I mean, I just fancied- a chat with Sirius."

A chat? _Now_? Remus frowned, rising from his chair. "I'll call him. He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again…" He hurried from the kitchen and called for Sirius upstairs.

"Fucking toe rag's probably gone off with the bitch's _garters_, for fuck's sake," he heard Sirius mutter from the staircase. "What?" Sirius then called to Remus, a shaggy head appearing over the banister of the second-floor landing.

"Get down to the kitchen," Remus insisted. "_Harry's_ here."

Sirius's eyes widened and he ran down the stairs, almost knocking Remus out of the way at the bottom. Remus glared at him, but recovered himself enough to push open the door to the kitchen first, Sirius following closely, and he stood aside for a moment as Sirius fell to his knees in front of the fire.

"What is it?" asked Sirius quickly. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

Remus knelt beside Sirius, watching them both with interest. Something was off about this visit. If Harry was in trouble at the school, they would already know about it, either from the portraits, or Minerva, or even Snape. He may not like the kid, but he would notify the Order if Harry was in danger; of that Remus was certain. There had been no word from any of them, however.

"No," Harry answered, confirming Remus's suspicions, "it's nothing like that… I just wanted to talk… about my dad."

Remus glanced over at Sirius to find his friend throwing a sidelong look back, and he tried to steel himself. Even after all these years, it was difficult to talk about James, and he knew that Sirius found it even harder. The two of them had been like two halves of the same person, really. Remus knew that however he and Peter had fit into the mix, they never could have infiltrated that bond between James and Sirius. It was to James that Sirius had gone when he had left the Black house; it was to James that Sirius had whispered suspicions about the traitor in the Order during the First War; and it was for James that Sirius had always done everything. Remus had no doubt that Sirius had come up with the Animagus idea to impress _James_, not Remus, and that that terrible night with Snape, and the Shack, had been planned for similar reasons.

He looked back at James's face in the fireplace and swallowed. James and Sirius – his best friends. Peter had turned against them all, but not James and Sirius, no – they always looked out for Remus, always did what was best for him, always –

As Harry's disembodied head replayed for him and Sirius the scene they had _lived_, all those years ago on the shores of the Lake, the day of their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL, Remus felt short of breath – but more like a slow drowning sensation than a quick right hook to the gut.

_They always did what they wanted, not what you wanted. _Fucking hell. He closed his eyes.

_Severus_.

~~~~~

 

Remus's lungs filled with a new drop of water with every word out of Harry's mouth. _And then- then I think I saw my mum, but she was really angry with my dad_. The tide rose and rose, like wet fingers choking Remus. _He had these greying underpants, really just- I don't know. But you and my dad were laughing at him, Sirius_.

Remus noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sirius was frowning, and he focused all his energy on watching Harry's face in the flames as impassively as he could. It would be so much easier to do, he thought grimly, if only he could _breathe_. He had to get a hold of himself; this was ridiculous. He couldn't let either Harry or Sirius see how rattled he was.

A Pensieve. Snape had ensured _that_ memory was carefully tucked away from Harry's probing mind. He didn't blame Snape for wishing to keep that particular memory as far out of Harry's reach as possible.

_I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her_.

Fuck. Twenty years of careful repression, and Harry had to come along and sock him in the gut with it all over again. It was stupid – it was just so unbelievably _stupid_ that after all these years, that memory could still make him want to vomit. What did he care, that Snape had been humiliated in front of the whole school that day? He'd deserved it, after what he'd called Lily. _Before_, his brain yelled at him – it happened _before_ he said anything to Lily, and you know it.

Remus listened to Harry's story with a gnawing ache in his stomach. He tried to avoid the memories; he tried to push them down, somewhere deep and inaccessible, where they had lain undisturbed for twenty years, somewhere he would never, ever have to relive them. He tried, but it was impossible. He was thirty-six years old now; he should not be held hostage by the mistakes of his youth. No one Remus's age should have the pain of past events thrust upon them long after it was too late to change them.

He gritted his teeth and shook his head, willing away the image of James swirling in the fire in front of him.

_Snogging blokes is one thing, Moony, and it's a bit sick if you want to know the truth, but fuck it, as long as you're getting some then we'll let it go. But fucking around with a greasy vampire bat behind our backs? You didn't really think we wouldn't find out, did you?_

The kid had stopped talking. Remus needed to say something. One of them needed to say something, and Remus could see that Sirius was gone, off in that faraway place he went to when he couldn't deal with the memories. He would be back, but not yet. Remus cleared his throat and tried to still his own racing heart. "I wouldn't like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry," he ventured. "He was only fifteen–"

"I'm fifteen!" Harry interrupted.

Remus resisted the urge to tell Harry that he was right, that his father was a complete arsehole, and on that day especially, if he could live it over again, Remus would not have hesitated to hex _him_ upside down, and toss him in the Lake besides. He took a deep breath.

"Look, Harry," said Sirius at last, shaking himself back into the present with a jerk of his head, like Padfoot did when he came in from the rain. Remus watched him closely, waiting to hear how Sirius would explain what had happened that day. "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts."

Remus tensed, and had to concentrate on not letting his jaw fall open. _Liar_. He stared at the side of Sirius's head, daring him to say that again – _wanting_ him to look into that fireplace and tell James's son _again _that they had only been fighting for the side of good against evil that day. _That's not why it happened, and you fucking know it_. Unless, he thought with a start – Sirius didn't know it? Unless… he _really believed that_? There was no way. Sirius just didn't want to tell Harry what had really happened, the real reason he and James had targeted Snape that day, and Remus couldn't say he disagreed with that decision.

"Yeah," Harry was saying as Remus turned back to face him, "but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because – well, just because you said you were bored."

"I'm not proud of it," Sirius snapped, and Remus glanced at him.

"Look, Harry," Remus began, fighting down the rage he was beginning to feel, fearing where it would take him if he paused to give it voice. If Sirius could play this game, if he could make up stories for Harry to smooth everything over, then Remus could, too. "What you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did," he said casually, hiding the irony threatening to push through in his voice. "Everyone thought they were the height of cool – if they sometimes got a bit carried away–"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," Sirius added, and Remus couldn't help but smile. Understatement of the century.

But the smile faded as Harry's story cemented in his mind. Snape's Pensieve was remarkably accurate: OWLs. The Lake. Sunshine. A Transfiguration texbook. _If you're bored you could test me_. A tree. Snape. _Mudblood_. It was rushing back at him, a powerful wave he couldn't avoid if he tried. And he was trying, oh god, he was trying to avoid this more than anything else in his life. Living through it once had been bad enough. _Reliving_ it was out of the question. But he couldn't stop it, now that it was here.

"He kept messing up his hair." Harry was still talking. Remus laughed when Sirius did, still trying to fight off the growing clarity of that memory. _No. I can't do this. Don't make me remember_.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," Sirius managed, smiling sadly at Harry and Remus.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" Remus asked suddenly, a new detail coming to him.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Well… I thought he was a bit of an idiot."

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" Sirius barked. "We were all idiots! Well – Moony not so much." He glanced at Remus with an affectionate smile, and Remus bit his lip.

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape?" he asked, pausing over the name. It was what he used to call him when they were sixteen, when first names seemed too intimate, like an acknowledgement that the things they _did_ were too intimate, like a reminder that they shouldn't have been doing them. _Hey, Snape_, he'd say, _are we snogging or what?_ Now, as adults, he did call the man _Severus_, ironically. It was the surname that seemed too intimate now, ever since that night in the Forest when they were sixteen – that night he hadn't thought about in decades.

Remus took a deep breath. "Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" he asked Sirius.

"Yeah, well," Sirius replied, "you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something…"

Remus shook his head, staring at the floor. _You never felt ashamed of that day_, he wanted to say. _Never_.

"And," Harry pressed, "he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him." Remus smiled a genuine smile then. Lily. _Mudblood_. The smile faded.

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius, by way of explanation. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him?" Harry asked. "She hated him!"

Harry was still talking. Harry wanted to talk about his parents, and all Remus could think about was that skinny chest filling his mind, a long scar around the ribcage and a trail of coarse black hair at his navel, leading down to –

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius was saying, and the memories became clearer and clearer in Remus's resisting mind.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," he added.

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," Sirius pointed out, as Remus narrowed his eyes.

"_And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it_."

"Even Snape?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Remus's mouth felt dry, his palms clammy, and his mind foggy. "Well," he replied, lingering again over the name. _That name_. "Snape was a special case." He almost choked at that, and had to think quickly in order to recover. "I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?" Good. If Sirius could spout bullshit like that, so could Remus.

"And my mum was okay with that?"

_I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her_. Remus took a deep breath.

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth," Sirius replied. "I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

It was upon him; he couldn't stop it. _You kissed me_. The memories swirled angrily around him, closing in. _And I liked it_. They tightened like a coil around his body. _You couldn't have_.

"Look," Sirius was saying to Harry, "your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it."

_No, he didn't_. But yes, a lot of people are idiots at that age. _I think… I love you_. Oh yes, a lot of people are right bastard _idiots_ at that age.

It came back to him with a dull thud, like a stack of books dropping onto a thick oak desk, and he stopped trying to hold off the memories. He _knew_ now; he saw with sickening clarity exactly what had happened – not only that terrible day, but the two months leading up to it.

He sat back on his heels as a vision of a tall screen fell over Harry's face in front of him. The grainy, black-and-white footage came into view and he was reminded of his Muggle grandmother's ancient projector. It clicked on, the tape rattling against the film reel as it established its rhythm. The credits rolled; the actors tipped their hats and pulled their cloaks tighter around themselves; and the lamp fluttered off and on for a moment before deciding it could muster a level of brightness somewhere in between. The reel continued to click with each rotation of the film, and Remus blocked out Harry and Sirius, the fireplace, and the last twenty years, as he started to watch.

He had been sixteen years old, and this was the worst memory of his life.

***

**Chapter 1: A Potion Gone Awry**

It began with a potion – or, rather, their failure to brew one properly. It was April, OWL homework was piling up nightly, and Severus Snape got a potion wrong for the first, and only, time in his life.

Remus should have known to be suspicious.

They were Potions partners – some crackpot theory about Inter-House cooperation, in advance of the OWL exams. Their Draught of Peace had gone a sickening brownish-orange instead of the requisite brownish-green, and Professor Carleton had made them stay after class to get it right. _I'll be in my office; no funny business out here, all right?_

Sure, Professor, no funny business at all. Remus snorted at the memory. He had been at the sink rinsing the cauldron (_And no magic! You boys are doing this the old-fashioned way_) when he felt a body standing just too close to him, behind, and a little to the left.

"Tell me why you hate me," a voice said, quivering a little.

Remus looked up. "I don't hate you."

A pause. "Then tell me why _they_ hate me."

He went back to scrubbing the pot. "I don't know, Snape. They just do. Don't worry about it, all right?" Why was he so close? Remus frowned and swirled the sudsy water around in the pot.

"But… you… don't," Snape said slowly, and Remus turned to him again.

"No."

"Why not?"

Remus shrugged. "You're good at Potions. Except today, that is." He rolled his eyes and kept scrubbing. "Are you going to stand there forever, or help out?"

"Stand here."

Remus sighed at looked over at him again, exasperated. "Then that's why I don't like you."

"You just said you did."

"Did what?"

"Like me."

"Snape, for god's sake. I didn't say I liked you – I said I didn't _hate_ you. Big difference, all right? Now wash the stupid pestle." He continued with his work, picking a hardened bit of dark orange grime off the cauldron as Snape settled in beside him, rolling the pestle around in his hand. They were silent for a few moments until Remus looked over again, his eyes widening.

Snape's idea of _washing_ the pestle seemed to be consisting of… of… what the hell was he doing? Stroking it? Soaping it up and- and- _feeling_ it? Remus watched, mesmerised, then swallowed hard, for what reasons he didn't know, as Snape gripped the thing with both hands, lathering it with suds and sliding his palms up and down its length.

"What are you- doing?" he managed at last, his voice a whisper.

"Nothing."

"I think it's clean, all right?" Remus replied angrily, rinsing the cauldron and making to place it back on the burner, then noticing it still had an orange hue around the rim. "Just- oh, hell, it's still dirty. What the hell did you put _in_ here, Snape? Fine time to fuck up a potion, you know, I've got a lot of homework tonight." He glanced up to see the hint of a smile quirking at Snape's mouth, and everything fell into place. The force of it hit him like a branch of the Willow to the gut, and to his horror, the blood dropped to his cock and he felt himself grow hard. Not that _that_ was a surprise; these days he got hard thinking about his mashed potatoes at lunch. But… _Snape?_ "You–" He grabbed Snape's robes before he could think. "What did you do?"

"I–" Snape stopped and gave him a challenging look. "Do you know what the Slytherins say about you?" he asked, and Remus released Snape's robes as his stomach fell to the floor.

_They couldn't know, they couldn't, it was impossible. Stay calm._ "Don't Slytherins have better things to do than say things about me?" he muttered, looking at the floor.

"They say–" Snape paused. "They say you don't like girls."

Remus's eyes jerked up. "What?" He hadn't quite been expecting that, especially since he really didn't know what he liked… apart maybe from Snape's hand on that pestle.

"They say you miss classes so much because they send you to the hospital wing to get electric shocks, so that you'll like girls."

"That I- electric- what?" Remus laughed despite himself. What the hell was Snape talking about? "Snape, what the hell are you talking about?"

Snape looked a bit less sure of himself with the laughter. "I- I just want to know if it's true," he said quietly, looking at the pestle in his hand.

"Uh, no, it's not true. I just- get sick a lot." He shrugged, his spine tensed against any further probing into his whereabouts once a month.

"It's not true?"

"No. And anyway, we're wizards. Why would they use electric shocks?"

"Because you're part Muggle."

Remus stared. "Not really! Just- okay. But so what? So- electric shocks." He shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly."

"It's not true," Snape pressed.

"Of course not! Snape, you're being weird. What the hell did you do to our potion, you idiot?"

"So, you like girls."

"What. No, I don't know, who cares? What did you do to the potion?"

"I just… wanted to ask you that," Snape mumbled, dropping the pestle in the sink and turning away.

"No!" Remus said irritably, grabbing his robes again and turning the other boy around to face him. "You got me detention tonight, so you're going to tell me why."

But Snape didn't answer. He just gazed into Remus's eyes for a long moment, then before Remus could protest, he leaned in and kissed him.

Kissed him. Kissing him. Kiss… Snape… Potions classroom… potion… kissing… fuck fuck fuck.

If anyone had asked him before that moment if he'd ever thought of kissing Severus Snape, he would have laughed at them; but if anyone had asked him afterwards, he would have said he would never think of anything else ever again. Was it his first kiss? Yes. No. He couldn't remember. If he'd been kissed before it hadn't been anything like this, and that wasn't because Snape was some kind of expert – of course not. He was sixteen years old. But good lord. Remus had never reacted to a kiss that way before, had never felt his toes tremble like that, had never cursed those heavy robes for keeping them from further touch.

He didn't mean to kiss back, but he did. He didn't meant to gasp at it, parting his lips and letting Snape's tongue between them, but he did. He didn't mean to clutch at Snape's shoulders like swooning _girl_, suddenly helpless against some bloody Lothario, but he did.

Footsteps came thudding down the hall and Snape sprang away from him, his face flushed and his eyes unreadable.

"How's it going in here, boys?"

"Just… fine, Professor," Remus stammered, trying to catch his breath. He reached up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

Snape looked thunderstruck. "I don't- excuse me, Professor. I don't feel very well." He bolted out of the room before the professor could stop him, and Remus stared helplessly.

"Um, I'll finish the potion, sir," he offered, turning back to the cauldron and scrubbing furiously. When he was alone again, he rested his hands on the warm metal and closed his eyes, his lips still swollen and the idea in his head that this could be what _electric shocks_ would feel like.

~~~~~

He might have let it go, had it not been for that damned Potions class. Snape was like a stone figure all through the lesson the next day, dicing and chopping methodically, in silence. Remus made sure the rest of the class was busy with their own potions, conversing with each other, before he leaned a bit closer to Snape. "Tonight after dinner, far north edge of the Forest – there's nothing on that side that bites."

Snape paused and glanced over at him with the barest flicker, his hand stilling, then set his mouth in a resolute line and resumed chopping.

"What do you want?" the voice called softly through the darkness that night, on the edge of the Forest, and Remus pulled his cloak around himself.

"I don't know. What do _you_ want?"

"I- I made a mistake yesterday. I'm sorry."

_Oh, not likely_, Remus thought. He grabbed Snape's sleeve as the boy turned to go. "I don't think- you did," he mumbled. He let his hand drift down to Snape's, curling their fingers together. He hadn't the least idea what he was doing, or why, but he couldn't stop if he wanted to. He leaned close to Snape's ear. "Can you- do that again?"

Snape's heart was beating wildly; Remus could feel it. "What?" he stammered, and Remus couldn't help but chuckle.

This time, he initiated the kiss, wet and hungry, one hand squeezing Snape's, the other flat on the boy's chest. He'd pushed him backwards into a tree before he knew what he was doing, their bodies falling together, but Snape pushed him away, gasping.

"No- what… no."

Remus was puzzled. Snape had started this, and Snape was bloody well going to finish it. "What? You started this."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have. I said I was sorry, now leave me alone!"

"What–" He took a deep breath. "What are you afraid of?" he whispered, asking himself the same question.

"Look, you have all the ammunition you need now," Snape snarled. "Go tell your friends all about the queer Slytherin they already hate. See if I care."

"Snape- what- I'm not–" Remus frowned. "I'm not telling them anything. It's none of their business."

Snape stared at him. "Then what- are you doing here?"

Remus took a step closer. "Um. You kissed me."

"I _told_ you, I shouldn't have–"

_"And,"_ Remus interrupted, before dropping his voice, "I liked it."

Snape was silent for a long time. "You… did not. You couldn't have."

In response, Remus leaned in again and brushed a kiss across Snape's lips. "Why not?" he said when he pulled back.

"You're not–" Snape swore and looked away.

"What?"

"Gay," he muttered.

They stared at each other. Remus didn't know what to say to that. The kisses had made him feel… well, he couldn't explain it, but it was nothing he'd ever felt before, or nothing he'd ever thought about feeling before. Snape, on the other hand, had obviously spent a great deal of time thinking about it, and analysing it, and… feeling guilty about it.

"I don't know what I am," he admitted at last. "But… you wrecked our potion." Snape smirked. "And you kissed me." Snape blushed. "And I liked it." Snape bowed his head, and Remus sighed. "So what if you shut the hell up about it and… just do it."

Snape leaned towards him at that, hands pulling at his robes, and they fell together into the side of the tree, panting breaths echoing in the Forest as fumbling hands and lips explored hormonal teenage bodies. Remus would be damned if he could get the image of that bloody _pestle_ out of his head, as he reached experimentally into Snape's robes, fumbling for further contact. He soon found that if he liked kissing Snape, he liked touching him even more, and there was no experience quite as incredible as hearing Snape's stifled cries, forehead on Remus's shoulder, every muscle in his body trembling with pleasure.

That was the last they ever talked about it for quite some time, in fact. They kept doing, and doing, and doing, not stopping to think about whether or not it made them gay, or what James and Sirius would do if they found out, or even what would happen to them if the lust ever wore off.

~~~~~

He was addictive, that was the only explanation. There wasn't any point in having angst about kissing a _boy_, touching a _boy_, getting off with a _boy_, because Snape didn't really fit those categories anyway. Snape was just… _Snape_, and the second Remus even considered ending whatever they had, he felt a knot well up in his stomach and a vague fear crush his lungs. He didn't want to be with girls or boys, he wanted to be with _Snape_, and he knew that didn't make any sense, but he just didn't care. It wasn't very often that he got what he wanted in life, and he decided that he was bloody well going to get _this_.

"Another hot date tonight?" Lily asked him slyly one evening after dinner, as he packed up his Charms textbook in the library, glancing down at his watch.

"What? Of course not."

"Relax, Remus," she replied with a smile, setting down her quill. "I'm not the village idiot, you know. Every night you come here for half an hour, then decide you're _too tired_ to study anymore." She giggled. "It's not hard to figure out."

He sighed, eyeing her warily for a moment. "Don't tell, okay?"

She shrugged. "Who would I tell?"

"_James_," he answered, raising an eyebrow.

She waved a hand. "Like I don't have better things to do than talk to _him_. But if you don't want him to know, it must be someone really bad, eh?"

He frowned at her, then considered. Lily was like the sister he never had. It hadn't taken her long to figure out what was going on, and he was so bursting to tell someone that he didn't deny it when she guessed who it was he was rushing off to meet. Their feigned study dates continued, and in return for her silence about Snape, Remus let her prattle on about what an idiot James was, and how she wouldn't go out with him if he was the last boy on earth. It felt good to have someone to confide in, even though he still kept most of the details to himself.

The Slytherins could go fuck themselves with their electric shock therapy; they could say whatever they wanted. He had James and Sirius to back him up if anyone wanted to call him _queer_; so long as they never found out what he was doing, he could beat the rumour mill. And Lily wasn't going to say anything – hell, most people thought _they _were dating, with all the time they spent together studying.

It would be all right. Everything was going to be all right, as long as he didn't think too hard about any of it, and as long as he didn't let himself get in over his head. Famous last words.

~~~~~

Still breathing hard but obviously struggling not to, Snape leaned back against the wall in the dusty, boarded up classroom they often used for their secret meetings, and closed his eyes.

Remus fastened his trousers quickly and then sat for a moment just watching the other boy, fascinated. It had been three weeks since that Potions detention, and Remus's head was still spinning from the rush of it all. Snape came undone so easily, so quickly, no matter what Remus did. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he was doing it right – he would reach out to touch Snape, guided only by thoughts of the way he liked to touch himself. He always hoped that would be good enough for Snape as well, but he was never sure.

Well, he was never sure, that is, until Snape came in a trembling rush in his hand barely two minutes later. Then he was pretty sure he was doing it right.

"All right?" he ventured now, still watching Snape's closed expression. His ragged hair hung down the sides of his face, highlighting his flushed cheeks against the pale skin. Remus took the opportunity to study him while his eyes remained closed. No, Snape definitely was not the best-looking bloke at Hogwarts, and that was for certain. He probably wasn't even the twentieth best-looking bloke at Hogwarts, nor the hundredth. Remus stared some more. That nose should probably have enrolled separately, really, with all the space it took up. He briefly imagined having Snape's _nose_ as a Potions partner instead of Snape himself, and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. The damn thing would still probably find a way to belittle him and bark instructions.

"Yeah," Snape replied slowly, breaking Remus's reverie as he opened his eyes. "Just-" He swallowed.

Remus smiled. No, Snape was not very attractive, and not even very nice most of the time, but he knew what he wanted and he went after it, and if nothing else, Remus had to admire that about him. There _was_ something else, of course – there was the way that shy smile appeared, maybe once a month if that, but usually in response to something Remus had said; there was that stubborn courage, to just _keep at _something until he got it right; and there was pride. He knew he was skinny, and that his nose was too big, and that not many people liked him. But Snape would never, ever let someone judge him based on those things. And if they did? Pride. Snape would walk away from them and never think twice about it, that much Remus knew by now.

No, he wasn't perfect, but neither was Remus, and the more time they spent together, the more Remus was coming to realise that he didn't want to spend his time with anyone else. Their mutual imperfections suited him just fine, especially since he spent most of his time with two boys who were _perfect_, as far as he could tell. It was hard to keep up sometimes, and when he was with Snape, he didn't have to.

Snape was watching him now, just as intently as he was watching Snape. Was Snape picking apart _his_ features, Remus wondered – weighing the ghastly scar down his right cheek against the way his hair fell over his forehead? He would never know.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Snape, and Remus smiled.

"That's a loaded question, Snape," he said mischievously. "What if you don't like the answer?"

"What kind of answer wouldn't I like?" Snape cocked his head to the side.

"I don't know. Quidditch. Charms notes. Hagrid's feet. Something like that."

There it was: that tiny smile. Remus caught his breath.

"You're right," Snape agreed, "I wouldn't have liked any of those answers."

"See?"

"Mm." Snape was quiet again for another moment before gathering himself up from the floor. "Tomorrow?" he asked, fastening his buttons and not looking at Remus.

Remus started to nod, lost in the moment and already anticipating _tomorrow_, absorbing the way the word slid off Snape's tongue like a promise, but then he remembered, and the dream shattered. "Oh," he began. "No, not tomorrow, sorry."

Snape watched him for a moment, his face unreadable, then he shrugged. "Fine." He bowed his head and fumbled some more with his clothes, but Remus caught the frown.

"It's not- I want to," he stammered, "it's just that–"

"You don't need to make excuses. I don't care."

"No, you don't- look, my mother, she's been- sick. I have to go- home for a few days." Remus took a deep breath. Fuck.

"Is she dying?" Snape asked plainly.

"What? No! I mean, we- don't know. Maybe."

"You're going home in the middle of the week, just before OWLs, for just a few _days_? She better be dying."

Remus dropped his head. "Look, it's just- I can't explain, but that's just the way it is, all right? I'll see you in Potions on Friday."

Snape just nodded, his gaze scrutinising Remus. When Snape turned towards the door, Remus impulsively grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him back to face him.

_Just understand, please?_ he wanted to beg. _Just don't ask me questions about this_. But he didn't say anything. He only leaned in to kiss the other boy, surprised by the taste on those lips before remembering what it was, that he was tasting _himself_, and he gasped and parted his lips, the kiss wet, sloppy, and forceful. It was supposed to convey all sorts of things to Snape, things he couldn't say with words, but Remus wasn't sure it conveyed anything other than a great deal of saliva, mixed with stale semen, and possibly a bit of potato left over from dinner.

Snape allowed the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and glaring at Remus. Without another word, he turned on his heel, opened the door and carefully peered down the empty hallway, then strode out of the room.

~~~~~

Three nights later, still sore and bruised, Remus met Snape again in their secret classroom.

"You're back," Snape observed, his usual neutral expression firmly in place.

"Yes."

"You look terrible."

Remus made a face. "Thanks."

Snape stepped towards him, narrowing his eyes, and Remus could almost see that irritating inquisitiveness at work in his brain. He raised a hand to Remus's cheek but stopped halfway there, letting it drop back to his side.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked irritably. "Are we snogging or what?"

"What are those scars from?"

Fuck. Remus steeled himself. "What? Nothing. Fell out of a tree when I was a kid, is all."

"On your face?"

"Yeah. It was a- branch. Sharp."

"It's still red."

"Look, do you want to snog or not? If my face isn't good enough for you, I'll find someone else." Remus folded his arms over his chest and tried to compose himself. Why did Snape have to ask these questions. Fucking, fucking hell. He was running out of excuses.

"No one else will snog you," replied Snape matter-of-factly, and Remus found he couldn't argue, despite the insult. "You said you were just at home, with your mother," he added after a pause.

"Yeah, so?"

Snape studied him for another unnerving moment. "Fine." He stepped closer, still inspecting Remus's face, before leaning in close and kissing him.

Remus responded slowly, chastely, still rattled by the questions, and soon Snape broke off the kiss and looked at him.

"What? Okay, here." To Remus's surprise, Snape stepped back and unbuttoned his robes, letting them fall to the floor, then started in on his shirt. It fell open as the last button popped through its fastening, and Snape stood awkwardly in front of him, almost half naked. Remus bit his lip, staring. "You, too," Snape added.

"What?"

"Take your shirt off."

"Take- why?" Remus thought of all the scars running down his torso and shuddered. The welts on his cheek were nothing compared to those lining the rest of his body, especially today, when they were still fresh and angry, and he didn't want Snape to see them. He had been so careful about that until now. "I don't want to," he muttered.

Snape didn't answer, but reached two fingertips out to trace down the fabric over Remus's chest. He started on the buttons, and Remus was so surprised he couldn't object until Snape was almost done.

"Wait. I said- I don't want to."

"It's already done."

"It was not! You-" He looked down and frowned, pulling his shirt closed again. "Why are you such a jerk?"

Snape was silent again, ignoring Remus's protests, letting his fingers fall against the hollow of Remus's throat, then down, until Remus was persuaded to drop his arms and allow the fingers to move against his bare chest. He studied the floor. Maybe Snape wouldn't notice. Remus's breath quickened at the touch, and he was surprised to find it so light and wonderful against his skin. He closed his eyes and was just beginning to enjoy himself, when he realised that Snape was tracing the lines of his scars across his torso. He tensed, but Snape placed a palm flat against his chest and bent in to kiss him again, and Remus forgot his objections.

When he broke it off, Snape pulled back and whispered so softly Remus could barely hear him, "It's all right, I- I have them, too." He moved back a fraction and pushed his own shirt off his shoulders, pausing with shy hesitancy while it puddled on the floor at his feet. His breaths were shallow, his eyes pinned to Remus, and Remus couldn't figure out what _Snape_ had to be so nervous about, when it was _Remus _who had the disgusting scratches all over his body.

But Remus's eyes widened and his lips fell open as Snape turned slowly, revealing a long dash of scar tissue that curved around his ribcage, from his back almost to his nipple. It was an angry purple, thick and tight, and much worse than anything marring Remus's body. Snape turned again, back to face Remus, and pointed to an ugly, stumpy knot of tissue just over his belly button.

Remus gasped, not sure what to think. "You-"

Snape nodded.

"But-"

"Fell out of a tree as a kid," Snape murmured, eyes still locked on Remus.

Remus stared at him, and Snape swallowed.

"This was… a whip," he said softly, his voice faraway as he pointed to the first scar, the long one that seemed to be coiled around half his body. Remus closed his mouth, eyes fixated on the scar. What was Snape talking about?

"And this?" he asked uncertainly, reaching out to run his hand down Snape's chest, stopping at the knotted lump above his navel.

"Knife," Snape answered, in the same mysterious, haunted voice, and Remus's heart skipped a beat. He still wasn't entirely certain what they were talking about, but he knew better than to ask Snape, not with his voice sounding like that.

"Knife," he repeated, nodding. _Knife_? What? "Those are- Muggle things," he stammered.

"Yeah," Snape agreed. "Some Pure-blood, right? He likes Muggle- things."

"He- yeah. Not… hexes."

Snape shook his head. "Doesn't like them," he replied. "Too… impersonal." Snape swallowed. "Some things magic can't quite get right, apparently…" He tried to smile and failed, then reached out for Remus again. "This looks like a Stinging Hex, though," he said, tracing the skin at the place where the werewolf's sternum burst forth every month.

Remus nodded before he could think of what he was doing. "Yeah. Stinging Hex."

Snape's gaze continued to drink in Remus's body like it was a well he had discovered in a desert, his long fingers running lightly up and down Remus's chest. "What did you do?" he asked at last, his voice shy, his hands resting on Remus's ribcage.

"Just- nothing," he stammered, not quite sure what answer he should give, but Snape seemed pleased with that one, because he nodded, then lifted his hands away and leaned back against the wall.

"Me neither," he said to the ceiling. "I mean, once I dropped a bottle of milk, and it- it splashed on some parchment he had on the counter. He was really angry about that one." He took a deep breath. "But usually it's nothing. He doesn't need- a reason."

It all hit Remus like a crashing wave then, and he thought he was going to throw up. He turned his head away for a moment and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain and rage in his stomach. Snape was… Someone used… And he thought Remus also… His breath came quickly, and he was certain that he suddenly understood everything he needed to understand about Snape, and all he wanted to do was get as close to him as possible and never let go.

"I don't- want to talk about that anymore," Remus said, moving towards the other boy and placing pale hands on his bare shoulders.

Snape tensed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay, it's just- you know."

"Yeah."

Remus let his hands slide down to Snape's bare chest then, and began marking designs on it with his fingertips. Snape closed his eyes and sighed, slumping into the wall, and Remus thought he almost saw a smile. He leaned in to kiss Snape, more gently than he usually did, just a tiny kiss, a light whisper of a kiss, a kiss of friendship and understanding and solidarity, because both of their lives were haunted by shadows that no one else knew about. Remus felt slightly guilty for misleading Snape about the exact nature of the shadow in his life, but he also liked the idea that Snape understood – generalities at least, if not specifics – and that he understood the pain, the scars, and the secrets more fully than James, or Sirius, or Peter ever would.

He pulled back from that light little kiss to see Snape's eyes still closed, his dark lashes stark against his pale cheeks, his lips slightly parted, and Remus's heart skipped a beat.

Snape opened his eyes again and gazed at Remus for a long moment, Remus's fingers still tracing those patterns on his chest. God, Snape was always so serious, always scrutinising things with those deep black eyes of his, as if watching long enough, and with enough intensity, would give him all the answers he wanted in life. Remus loved it when that gaze settled on him. It made him self-conscious and uncomfortable as hell, but it also warmed and reassured him, in a way, to know that someone wanted to look at him like that, with such reverence.

He kissed Snape again, then moved his nose to the other side and did it again, then again – short, biting kisses that stole his breath and made his palms sweat. Finally, he pushed his bare chest against Snape's, his hips following suit, grinding them both into that wall, and kissed him with a ferocious need. Snape responded, more intensely than ever before, reaching around to pull Remus even tighter against him. When they both came, in quivering silence, neither of them stopped the kissing, or the pressing. Remus felt inexplicably as though Snape's skin against his was the only thing that made sense in his life, and he never wanted to let it go.

 

~~~~~

"Powdered bicorn horn, Lupin, not the rat testicle yet!"

"Okay! Calm down, I've got it."

"How did you ever pass Potions before this, anyway?"

"Shut up! I'm good enough at it when you're not yelling at me. Besides, what's so bad about getting it wrong?"

"Oh, let's see – detention, maybe?"

"Right. So I repeat: what's so bad about getting it wrong?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply, then paused, closed it again, and glanced sideways at Remus. A faint blush crept up his cheeks. "I- nothing, I suppose."

Remus grinned at him and moved a bit closer, letting his left elbow touch Snape's right, as they both leaned over their cauldron. "Thought not," he whispered, and he felt Snape's arm press into him.

They were silent for a moment, and Remus gazed into the swirling blue mist of their potion, relishing the feel of Snape's body beside his – here, in the middle of class, where it felt so brazen just to be standing this close to each other, as though anyone could look up at any moment and know exactly what they had done to each other in that old classroom the night before, as though stirring that potion while Snape chopped the ginger root revealed all his secrets about the quivering mess he became the second Snape's lips landed on his throat and Snape's fingers wrapped around his cock.

_Oh god. Think about something else_.

"All right?" Snape was eyeing him with a half amused, half terrified expression.

"Yeah." He moved away from the other boy and ran a hand over his face. "Just- don't stand so close."

Snape glared at him. "You did it first!" he hissed, as quietly as he could.

"I know, but now you're- distracting me." Remus turned back to his tablet and knife.

"Well, that's not my fault. If you'd pay attention and stop–"

"I'd watch your mouth, _Snivellus_," a menacing voice cut in from behind them.

"Remus not a good enough partner for you, Sniv?" Another voice. "Sure we can find you someone else, if you'd rather – James here is quite good at Potions, actually."

Remus's stomach rolled over, as he stared down at his tablet. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Snape was completely still, tensed like a coil, his eyes on the cauldron in front of them.

"It's true," James agreed. "Maybe I should be your partner, Sniv, how'd you like that? Give Remus the day off." He stepped closer, until he was right behind Snape. "I'd dump that sludge all over your greasy head," he hissed. "Wouldn't even notice the difference."

Snape finally whirled around, his eyes flashing. "You get the hell away from here, Potter, or you'll end up getting your precious _Lupin_ detention when we don't get our potion finished on time."

Remus continued to stare down at his tablet, his heart hammering, his brow furrowed at the way Snape had spat his name. _Do something_, a voice in his head yelled. But he didn't.

"Is that a threat?" Sirius was whispering furiously now, darting a quick glance across the room to ensure Professor Carleton was still occupied checking other students' potions, before stepping in front of James and pushing Snape back into the counter.

Remus finally forced himself to look up, catching Snape's eye and letting his gaze linger a fraction too long. He intended to turn around and send James and Sirius back to their own work table, but Peter intervened before he had a chance. _Peter?_ Yes, Peter.

"Hey!" he called from two tables over, where he was partnered with a dark-haired Slytherin girl. His voice was quiet but terse, and they all looked over at him. "I'm the one who needs some help over here, all right? Look who I'm stuck with." The girl glared at him as he jerked his head towards her, but James chuckled and started to make his way over.

Sirius paused and gave Snape another shove into the counter before strolling off as well, as if he had already forgotten the entire incident.

"Two of us stuck with bloody _Slytherins_," James muttered, leaning over Peter's shoulder to inspect his work. "What the hell's the world coming to?"

Peter glanced back at Remus and caught his eye, staring straight through him as he answered. "Don't know, Prongs." That gaze began to burn a hole through Remus's chest, and he had trouble getting his breath. "But too much time with Slytherins can get a person in an awful lot of trouble, if you ask me."

Remus stared.

"Too right, that," Sirius agreed, a distant voice in Remus's head, as he turned back to his tablet and resumed chopping in silence.

Snape didn't say another word for the rest of the class, and when the bell rang, he quickly stoppered a sample of their potion, handed it to Professor Carleton, and fled the classroom without a backwards glance.

~~~~~

 

Remus tried to forget the entire incident, but he found the task completely impossible. He fretted more than usual that night as he packed up his books and gathered some spare parchment, ostensibly for his almost-nightly visits to the library. Would Snape show up? Would he be so angry at Remus for not standing up to his friends that he would refuse to see him again? The very thought made Remus's _bones_ ache.

_Well_, he told himself, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading down the stairs to the common room, _there's only one way to find out_.

"Study time," he called casually to James, Sirius, and Peter as he passed them, two engaged in a game of Wizard's chess while the third avidly watched. "Anyone who wants more than, oh, _zero_ OWLs had better come along." This was his standard speech. His friends were so tired of it by now that they didn't even look up.

"We'll take that chance, Moony," Sirius replied, delighted eyes glued to the board as his knight clobbered James's castle.

"Yep," James agreed, hauling the carnage off the board. "Being the first Potter in family history to get _zero_ OWLs would actually be quite an achievement, don't you think, Padfoot?" He glanced up at Sirius and smirked.

"Oh, quite." Sirius nodded. "Even better than being the first _Black_, I should think."

"Excellent." James turned to Remus. "There you go, Moony. We couldn't possibly study tonight – family history to think about, and all." He laughed and kicked a foot out at Sirius's leg, and the other boy grinned.

"But you have fun," Sirius added.

Remus rolled his eyes and turned to go, already thinking ahead and worrying anew about whether or not Snape would show up, and how angry he would be if he did, and what the odds might be that a well-timed blow job could shut him up – when another voice piped up.

"Well, there isn't really any Pettigrew family history to uphold on that score, so I should probably come study with you, Moony."

Remus froze, one hand on the door. He turned slowly, to find Peter glaring at him with that same look he had seen in Potions earlier in the day.

"You- don't have your books," Remus stammered.

"I'll use yours." Peter scrambled out of his chair and met him at the door, giving him a pointed look. "Come on."

With a last glance at James and Sirius, who had started a new game and didn't even appear to have noticed Peter's absence, Remus pushed through the portrait hole and out into the corridor. No, they hadn't noticed, Remus realised, but one wrong move and Peter would make them notice it – and he would make them notice all Remus's secrets as well.

Peter followed him out into the hall, and as soon as the portrait clicked shut, Remus rounded on the other boy and pushed him back into it. "What's up, Wormtail?" he asked curtly, his hand gentle, but tense, against Peter's shoulder. Depending on the turn this conversation took, he could release him and laugh it off as horseplay, or close a fist around his throat in seconds. He would do it, too – depending on the turn the conversation took. "You hate studying."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Just curious about your study partners," he answered, and Remus paused.

"I don't have any study partners," he said carefully, but he knew it was wrong when a wicked grin spread over Peter's pointy face.

"Ah. I didn't think so."

They stared at each other for several long seconds. "What do you want?" Remus asked at last, tightening his grip on the other boy's shoulder.

"I want you to think about where your _loyalties lie_, Moony," Peter replied, "running off to fuck a Slytherin." The words came out with barely a whisper, but the venom behind them knocked Remus's hand back down to his side.

He took three shallow breaths. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe I don't. But you do."

Remus considered his options; none of them looked good. "So." He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"

But Peter shook his head, the lucidity of the past few minutes suddenly replaced with his usual expression of confused disbelief. "I don't _want_ anything, Moony, I just- wanted to tell you that I don't think it's a good idea."

Remus regarded him sceptically. "So noted, Wormtail, but it's not your business."

Peter frowned. "You're my friend, Moony, so yes it is. I just- you're making a mistake, all right? He's not just a Slytherin, he's a – well. I've heard him say really bad things."

"Like?"

"Like about Muggles. And non-Pure-bloods. You know the words."

Remus was taken aback. He stared at Peter. "He wouldn't say something like that," he mumbled. _I'm not a Pure-blood_, he added in his head. No, Snape wouldn't say something like that.

Peter shrugged. "Well, that's just what I heard. Not to mention–" His eyes narrowed again – "It's a bit sick to be off snogging _blokes_, isn't it?"

Remus didn't bother with his hands this time – he grabbed his wand and had it pointed at Peter's throat in seconds. "I asked you what you wanted, Peter," he seethed. "Either you tell me, and we negotiate, or you fuck off and let me go study."

Peter was still for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing, Moony, I don't want anything. I just wanted to tell you to stop it."

Remus let the wand press into his friend's skin a second longer, then dropped it to his side. "And them?" he asked, jerking his head towards the common room behind the portrait, and Peter shook his head again.

"I won't tell them," Peter replied. "I swear I won't. But Moony – you have to stop, okay? Someone else could find out, and it'd be even worse."

Remus almost snorted, shoving his wand back into his robes. Nothing would be worse than James and Sirius finding out. Nothing. "Goodnight, Peter," he said, turning to hurry down the hall, and leaving Peter to stare after him.

~~~~~

"You're fifteen minutes late," Snape snarled when Remus finally arrived at the classroom.

"I'm surprised you're here at all," Remus shot back, his run-in with Peter having put him in a fair mood for a fight.

"You should be."

"I- what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't need to be wasting my time with someone who considers those rabid _imbeciles_ to be _friends_," Snape hissed.

"Well, they _are_ my friends, so you have to live with it. And- fuck. I'm sorry, all right? I should have–"

Snape's face paled. "You should have _what_?" His dark eyes glittered and Remus took a step backwards. "You should have stepped in and _done something_? Fuck off, Lupin – I can take care of myself. I don't need any help from you."

"Fine! Next time I won't bother."

"You didn't bother _this_ time, you idiot!"

"I- why are you so difficult?" Remus suddenly felt an inexplicable sadness settle in his chest, pushing aside the anger, as though he knew that this was it; this was the issue that would always stand between them. His friends.

"Why do _you_ waste your time with them?" Snape's voice was quiet now, as he slumped against the far wall of the room. Quiet, but full of fury.

_Why did he_? He couldn't explain it to Snape, that feeling of being completely alone in the world, until one day you got on a train to go to school, and the kid beside you offered to share his Every-Flavoured Beans with you if you promised not to make fun of his glasses; and the kid beside _him_ asked you to check the corridor for his wicked older cousins and give him some notice if they were coming; and the kid beside _him_ told you that the scar on your cheek was ace, and asked if you'd gotten it in a fight, then told you that if he had some scars like that maybe it would hide his pointy nose.

He couldn't explain to Snape what it was like to curl up in a ball on the floor of that Shack, rocking back and forth and crying because you just couldn't help it, as you waited, and waited, and waited, the seconds stretching into hours before that first _crack_ in your jaw reverberated from your shoulder blades down to your ankles, pain blazing through you like an electric shock as every bone in your body broke and reformed itself anew.

And he couldn't explain to Snape that the pain was warmer somehow, and duller, when you opened your eyes to see Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs there to take care of you, to make sure you never had to be alone again.

There were an awful lot of things he would never be able to explain to Snape, and that thought made him ache more than any other.

"You wouldn't understand," he said quietly, approaching Snape from across the room.

"You're right," he replied, his voice tinged with sadness, "I wouldn't.

They didn't speak after that, as Remus stood in front of him and slowly moved both hands up to Snape's hair, tangling through it and pushing it aside as his palms came to rest against the back of Snape's neck. He leaned in to kiss him, and all thoughts of Potions class, and Peter, and his stupid fucking _friends_ evaporated from his mind, as that pleasant mist settled in, the familiar cloudiness that always occluded his better judgement whenever he found himself kissing Snape.

It surprised him, how needy he felt tonight. The fear that Snape wouldn't show up, or would never allow this kissing again, after the scene in class that day, had been stronger than Remus wanted to admit. But Snape was here, Snape was kissing him, Snape was letting it go – for now, at least, and Remus wanted to make the most of his good fortune. He wanted Snape to know how relieved he was, and that no matter how important his friends were, he also wanted _this_.

He slowed the kiss, drawing back gradually and sucking at Snape's bottom lip as he let go, then allowing his gaze to linger on Snape's for a moment before sliding to the floor. Snape gasped as Remus unbuttoned his robes, then his trousers, drawing out Snape's pulsing cock. He wrapped his hand around it, then licked the underside slowly, his tongue flat and his heart racing.

He saw Snape's hands clench into fists at his side and felt his legs stiffen, as Remus licked his lips and took Snape's shaft into the wetness of his mouth. It was big enough, and he wasn't an expert at this, but the rush of it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was a unique thrill, to think that this thing filling his mouth was _Snape's cock_, and that the pressure of his lips and his tongue in the right places, at the right time, could make those crazy deep moans escape Snape's lips.

It didn't take long; it never did. Snape bucked into him, and he thought he heard a thud, like the back of Snape's head hitting the wall, as he sucked and swallowed as quickly as he could. He barely had time to press a hand to his own trousers before he was coming as well, Snape still panting above him and that cock slipping from his mouth and back against Snape's body.

Remus collapsed onto the floor, his chest heaving, his muscles quivering, and Snape slid down beside him. He crawled over and laid his head in Snape's lap without even thinking about it, and remembered feeling warmth in his fingertips when Snape's hand started stroking his hair.

***

**Chapter 2: That's What Friends are For**

 

"You heading out already? What about Transfiguration?"

Remus looked up from his book bag, where he'd been packing away his cumbersome textbooks after another OWL study session. "Oh, well, I'm tired. We'll make up for it tomorrow, all right?"

Lily grinned at him and narrowed her eyes. "It's eight-thirty, Remus, and I've heard from your dorm-mates that you never sleep more than four hours a night. You're not tired."

He tried to stop the blush rising in his cheeks but knew it was useless. And anyway, it wasn't like he had to hide anything from Lily; she'd been good about it for almost two months now. He just got embarrassed when she brought it up. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms and glaring at her. "I have to be somewhere. What's it to you?" He tried to hide a grin but failed.

"Oh, you are so _cute_ with that crush of yours!" she exclaimed, beaming at him, her chin resting in her hand. "That's three nights this week you know; better be careful, or someone'll start thinking it's serious."

"Who, me? And it's not a _crush._"

"You, or… your partner in crime. And _yes it is_." Her eyes twinkled, and he laughed.

"I don't think so, Lily," he said, shaking his head. "It's just… you know."

"Enlighten me," she pressed.

"No! _Lily_… come on." His face flushed further.

"Sex?" she prompted.

"Lily!"

"What? That means it is." She thought for a moment. "I'm not sure if that's better than a crush or not."

"I'm not either," Remus agreed, then gave her a warning look. "Secret still safe with you?"

"No. Where's James?" She looked around frantically, and Remus put his hands on his hips. "Potter! Come here! I have to tell you your mate's shagging Snivellus!"

"Shut _up!"_ he hissed, his eyes darting around the library as Lily collapsed into giggles.

"Oh, leave it out, Remus. There's no one around here, and anyway, until Potter stops being an arrogant _prat_, I'm not going out of my way to tell him _anything_." She smiled at him, but then, catching his raised eyebrows, fell straight-faced and added, "Not that I would, even if he _wasn't_ being an arrogant prat."

Remus sighed. "Good. Thanks, Lil. I think you're the only person in the universe who has any hope of understanding this." His face darkened.

"He's a decent bloke." She shrugged. "I don't know what James and Sirius's problem is, but I've got no reason not to like him. Unless–" She narrowed her eyes – "I ever find out he's done you wrong. Then he'll be sorry."

He smiled, rolling his eyes. "My own protector and saviour. Thanks, Lily. Tomorrow night, same time?"

She waved her hand. "Sure, sure. But if you fail Transfiguration, it's not my fault." He waved at her over his shoulder as he headed for the door, distantly hearing her call, "Say hi to Sev for me."

~~~~~

Remus exited the library in a rather good mood – his Transfiguration notes were well in order, his Charms revision seemed to have stuck in his head, and overall his OWL exams in a week were looking to go very well. He checked his watch. Not to mention, he thought as he hurried down the hall, that if he didn't meet anyone along the way, he should still get to that classroom in plenty of time.

Alas, the figures that emerged from the shadows as he rounded the corner to the side staircase had different ideas entirely.

"Moony," one drawled, approaching him with languid, confident steps. He tried not to look surprised as he collected himself.

"What?"

"Where are you going?" the second voice asked softly.

"What are you talking about, Prongs – I was at the library. Just coming back to the common room."

"This isn't the way to the common room," the first hissed, and Remus saw Sirius's dark eyes glittering at him.

"What- I- who cares?" he stammered. They had no right to do this. They couldn't stop him. They couldn't _know_. There was _no way_ they could possibly have found out. He concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. "Do I have to tell you everywhere I go?"

James laughed, clapping a hand to Remus's shoulder. "Yes," he said plainly, the laugh fading.

"Especially," Sirius chimed in, "if it involves sneaking around… _without us_… when it's not full moon." He stared pointedly at Remus.

_Oh god they know_. "What? I- forgot a book- in Charms today. Just had to go get it."

"Oh!" James laughed again. It was not a pleasant sound. "Is that all? Good, because Padfoot and I thought maybe it was something else entirely. But a book – hey, no worries. We'll go with you to get it, yeah? Come on." He headed down the corridor, as Remus felt the colour draining from his face.

"No!" he cried before he could stop himself, and Sirius broke into a maniacal grin.

"Ah, see, Prongs?" he said, his head cocked to the side as he swaggered over to Remus. "He's lying to us again. Peter was right."

Peter? Peter. _Peter_. Remus's stomach roiled. Peter knew. Peter promised not to say anything.

_Peter lied_.

He steeled his nerves. These were his friends, after all – what did he have to be afraid of? "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, so just… go back to the Tower, all right? I'll be there in a minute."

James pushed him hard into the wall again at that. "No, Moony, _you_ look – snogging blokes is one thing, and it's a bit sick if you want to know the truth, but fuck it, as long as you're getting some, we'll let it go." He leaned closer. "But fucking around with a greasy vampire bat behind our backs? You didn't _really_ think we wouldn't find out, did you?"

Oh _fuck_.

"We're your _friends_, Moony," Sirius piped up, though his eyes said anything but. "We're looking out for you. You make a bad decision, it's up to us to set you right, isn't it? He leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest in aggression. "And fucking a Slytherin is a _really bad_ decision."

Remus glared at him. "I'm not _fucking_ a Slytherin," he spat.

James calmly raised his eyebrows. "Peter says you are."

"Well, I'm not," he seethed. What did he have to be afraid of? He refused to give in to them on this. "So who are you going to believe – Peter or me?"

There were all silent for a second, he and James staring at each other with unwavering eyes, both of them angry, stubborn, and refusing to back down. Remus had thought the question would be easy, and they would all be laughing off the entire incident by now, heading back to the common room to collectively yell at Peter for spreading such lies.

But they weren't, because James still hadn't answered the question. After a few more seconds, Sirius did it for him.

"Peter," he said softly, from a place just beside them. Remus continued to watch James's face, anxious to find disagreement there.

James turned to Sirius. "Yeah? Why do you think so?" he asked.

Sirius dropped his eyes to the floor, but Remus had turned his head and caught it just in time, that expression on Sirius's face. The fear. When Sirius lifted his head again a split-second later, he was all charm. "Peter's too stupid to be devious," he explained, and James snorted a laugh. "But Moony here could pull it off without breaking a sweat." He gave Remus a look that under normal circumstances might have been admiring, but tonight held only judgement.

"Moony?" James prodded again, more gently this time. He smiled at Remus, watching him carefully. "Come on. The truth?"

Remus sighed. Trying to resist that welcoming smile was pointless. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine," he declared. "I lied. All right?" He swallowed hard and tried not to think about how pissed off Snape was going to be when he didn't show up tonight.

Sirius looked aghast, but James quickly placed a hand on his chest to keep him back. "There," James said, satisfied, "that wasn't so hard. Now come on – take the night off. Let's go- play some chess or something." He looked from Remus back to Sirius, and gave a tiny shake of his head. Sirius looked as though smoke could have been coming out of his ears, his nostrils flaring as his breath came fast. "Padfoot," James warned before turning back to Remus, "and Moony. Let's go."

What could he do? Remus took a deep breath and followed his friends back to the common room.

~~~~~

That night he tossed and turned, finally settling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. Fucking, stupid Peter. You didn't keep Snape waiting, that was one rule. He'd never talk to Remus after being stood up like this. But what did Remus care? He didn't, he decided. It was never supposed to happen in the first place, so it was just as well that it was over now. As long as James and Sirius never talked about it again (and they were most expert at ignoring things they didn't want to deal with, as that very evening had proven, once they had all reached the common room again), all could proceed as before. He could leave all of this behind him. If only his traitorous mind would stop flashing back to those stolen encounters… in that classroom, or the Quidditch stands, or just inside the Forest…

_"What if I just…"_

"Oh."

"Do you- like that?"

"Oh."

"Just- let me- here, take these off."

"No! Not unless- you do, too."

"No way.

"Then fuck off, I'm not going to."

"OK, fine. Just a second. There, is that better?"

"Oh."

"Now you have to."

"I am! Just hold on, for fuck's sake."

"Ah, you… bloody hell, Snape, that's… ah."

"Oh."

"Can you say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. My name, maybe?"

"You know your name."

"Prat. Say my name."

"Lupin."

"My name."

"No. Ahh, just- don't stop."

"Only if you promise to do this to me later."

"Fuck, oh. Oh. I promise."

"Just–"

"Mm… Remus…"

They had graduated over the past few months from sloppy, awkward kisses and shy, experimental touches to things that made Remus's breath hitch in his throat when he thought about them… things involving steady hands and inventive tongues and the thrill of flesh on flesh, when they could afford the privacy. He didn't know what to call any of it; it was terrifying and mesmerising, and he felt like his hand was in the world's biggest, most dangerous cookie jar. He knew it was off-limits, the things they did, and the things Remus wanted to do besides, and he hated himself for not being _normal_, like James and Sirius and Peter, for wanting to study with Lily so that he could ask her what she thought of Snape, not to snog her himself.

But he would be damned if he was going to admit that to his friends. They were good friends, _real _friends, and getting caught had been awful. They'd taught themselves to become Animagi, for god's sake, and all by the age of fifteen. They cared about him more than anyone else did; more than his own family did, even – and probably more than Snape ever would. No, if they didn't approve of Snape, they must have their reasons, and he couldn't go against their wishes, just for a bit of fooling around in hidden corridors at night. He just couldn't. Snape would come and go, but his friends – they would be there forever.

~~~~~

The morning after they caught him, Remus went down to breakfast feeling sick and miserable. When the post arrived, a school barn owl swooped towards him and dropped a note in his lap. James eyed him carefully but said nothing, and Remus hastily opened it to see two words scrawled across the parchment.

_Fuck you_.

He frowned and turned away, but Sirius laid a hand on his arm.

"Look, Moony, about last night…" he began, and Remus glared at him. "No, really! I just- we want to apologise." He glanced over at James, who nodded. "We were just- worried about you, you know? You have to be careful who finds out about- you know."

"And Snape would tell the whole school," James chimed in. "We don't want you to get expelled or anything, right?"

Remus nodded. Well, that much was true – it _was_ risky, and Snape _had_ been asking an awful lot of questions lately. "Yeah, I know," he agreed. "I'm… sorry I… well, you know." He swallowed. "It's done with, anyway. Can we- not talk about it, please?"

James smiled, and Sirius clapped him on the back. "Sure, Moony. Water under the old bridge, right? Glad to hear it's all in the past. Now." He leaned in conspiratorially. "That Hufflepuff's been eyeing you – the blonde one, with the–" He made an obscene gesture in front of his chest and gave Remus a knowing waggle of his eyebrows. "She's got Charms with us; why don't you try chatting her up today?"

Remus smiled weakly and nodded. "Sure, Padfoot. Good idea."

As they left the Great Hall, Remus lingered behind his friends, glancing over to the Slytherin table to find black eyes on him, as he'd expected. He pursed his lips and shook his head slightly in apology, but if Snape understood him, he made no sign.

~~~~~

"Moony, you awake?"

A dark head peered between his bed hangings, and Remus looked up with a start. "Yeah," he whispered back, then scooted into a sitting position as James climbed up to the other end and leaned against the footboard, closing the hangings. He muttered a quick _Silencio_, followed by a _Lumos_, and the bed was bathed in cool yellow light. "What the hell are you doing?" he added, eyes darting around nervously.

"Relax, I'm not here to seduce you," James said, grinning. "I just wanted to talk."

Remus sighed. "We've done that, all right? I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Well, I wanted to talk about Quidditch, but since you brought it up…" James smirked through the dull light, and Remus couldn't help but grin back. The tension that had weighed on them for the past few days seemed to evaporate, and Remus let his head fall back against the headboard.

"Arsehole," he muttered, still grinning.

"Pouf," James replied, and Remus stiffened. "Relax, I'm just taking the piss," he added, laughing. "Look, why don't you- tell me about it?"

"About what?" Remus asked in alarm.

James smiled. "You're my friend, Moony, and you were- into this, right? And if it was anyone else, a girl or something, I'd want to know about it. So, just- tell me… why."

"If I knew _why_, I wouldn't have hidden it," Remus muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. He sighed. "He's different, okay? And he's not as bad as you think."

"At what?" James said mischievously.

"Oh, for god's sake." Remus paused and narrowed his eyes. Fuck it – they already knew, and they hadn't kicked him out of the dorm yet, so maybe it was time to go for broke. "James Potter," he began, head cocked to the side, "are you asking me what it's like to get a blow job?"

James's jaw dropped. "No! I- you think I don't know? I already know."

"No, you don't."

"I–" He closed his mouth and glared. "Are you telling me you got a blow job from _Snape_?"

Remus nodded, inspecting his fingernails. "Several."

"Moony, that's disgusting. What am I doing here? Excuse me, I have to go throw up."

"No, you don't," Remus said, grinning, "and anyway, who cares who it was? The point is that _I've_ had a blow job and _you_ haven't."

James began to splutter a reply, but a new face poked between the curtains just then.

"Well, _I_ have," Sirius declared, crawling to the middle of the bed and looking between James and Remus, "and I can tell you, it's something you should strive for, Prongs." He nodded solemnly, then broke into a broad grin as James reached out and took a swipe at him.

"I'm trying to have a private conversation with Moony, you tosser – fuck off."

Sirius looked put out. "Then you should work on your Silencing Charms, because you're louder than a charging hippogriff over here."

James swore under his breath and tugged at the hangings experimentally, as if blaming them for his failure. He glared at Sirius, who just grinned and turned to Remus.

"So, blow jobs from Snivellus, eh? Pretty bad, Moony."

Remus sighed again in exasperation. "A blow job's a blow job, right? Who cares who it is?"

Sirius shook his head sadly. "So, now we have to change your voice on the Map? Or is Snape still a big-nosed git?"

Remus scowled. "Yes, he still is, and no, you don't have to change anything – I told you, the Charm makes it change anyway, according to circumstances."

"So it'll still talk about his _abnormally large nose_ in twenty years?" James laughed. "Good."

"If I still think that in twenty years, yeah," Remus confirmed.

"So what's it say now?" James asked slyly. _"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Mr. Snape, and thanks him for the incredible blow job?"_

Remus's eyes widened. "Fuck off!" he cried.

Sirius laughed, then twisted his face into a sneer. "That's just… so… _disgusting_."

"And doesn't he _smell_ bad?" James asked, wrinkling his nose.

"And what about his hair? You don't want _that_ on your… little werewolf," Sirius added, as Remus glared at him.

"And aren't his fingernails dirty?"

They all turned their heads toward the new voice.

"Wormtail, go back to bed and let the adults talk," James said, smirking, then turned to punch the curtains. "Wait – _you_ can hear through these things, too? What the fuck."

"And what do fingernails have to do with it, you dumb fuck?" Sirius barked as Peter climbed onto the bed beside James.

"Do you even know what a blow job _is_, Wormtail?" Remus asked, _almost_ enjoying himself now that they were all talking about it so easily.

"Shut _up_!" Peter wailed, hitting them all on the arm in turn. "I know that I don't want one from _Snape_, whatever it is," he muttered as an afterthought, and Remus laughed.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," he said impishly. "He's quite skilled."

A poignant silence followed, as James and Sirius's mouths dropped open.

"Oh no, I really _am_ throwing up now." James scrambled off the bed and out of sight, Sirius watching him through the open curtains with a look of pure delight on his face. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of James's dramatic faux retching, and Sirius laughing.

"See what you've done, Moony?" he cried, his eyes alight. "Poor Prongs's lost his dinner, and all because you had to go and put your dick in Snape's mouth."

Peter's head swung towards him, eyes wide. "In his _mouth_? Moony, that's–"

He was interrupted by the sound of more pained gagging from James, and they all started to laugh, Remus included.

After a lengthy bout of hacking and coughing, James climbed back onto the bed, wiping his mouth and taking deep breaths. "Whew," he said, shaking his head. "I know I asked for details, Moony, but that was _harsh_. You've got to warn a bloke before getting into stuff like that." He settled back against the footboard and just dodged Remus's leg as it sprang across Sirius's lap to kick him.

"Well," Peter piped up, stretching his legs out on the bed, "at least you didn't do that to Snape, eh Moony? That'd be even worse."

"What?" Remus looked at him.

"You know, with- his- dick." Peter pronounced the word with difficulty. "You didn't put that in _your_ mouth, at least, right?" He grinned and turned back to James.

Remus felt his face flush, as James and Sirius slowly turned their heads towards him, jaws agape.

"Moony?" asked James, his voice low. "You didn't, right? You used his greasy Slytherin mouth for the only thing it's good for, then you zipped up and walked away, right?"

Sirius leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering. "_Right?_"

"I… yeah. Of course, yeah. I walked away." Remus looked down, rubbing his sweating palms against the sheets.

"You _sucked his cock?_" Sirius hollered, punching Remus in the arm. "You fucking _didn't_, Moony! Tell me you didn't."

"Ow! Shut the hell up! No, I didn't." Remus shuffled back on the bed and glared at the other three boys. "_Of course_ I didn't."

The four of them were silent for a moment, and Remus prayed that this was the end of it. He would never see Snape again, he would _swear_ to it, if only this was the end of it. But his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of James's voice.

"Yeah, all right, Moony," he began, "but you know we're going to have to get him for this, right?"

Remus's heart stopped.

~~~~~

He raised an eyebrow, struggling not to look worried. "_Get_ him?" he asked innocently. "What are you talking about?"

James shrugged, darting a glance at Sirius, whose grin was spreading across his face. "You know, teach him a lesson."

Remus's eyebrow sprang higher as his gaze darted between the three of them, all smirking at each other.

"Yeah," Sirius clarified. "We'll just have a little chat with him, Moony – nothing for you to worry about. Unless you'd like to be there for it?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Look, what is this?" demanded Remus. "I'm not a child – you can't tell me what to do."

James stared at him. "Okay, Moony, okay." His voice softened, and he glanced at the other two boys. "Your judgement's a bit impaired by all those amazing BJs–"

Sirius turned his head and made a loud gagging noise on James's behalf, and James paused to smile indulgently at him.

"–and we're not trying to tell you what to do, okay? But just- think about it. Snape's pretty weird, right?"

"And queerer than a four-Sickle coin," Sirius piped up.

"Well yeah, and that," James agreed, giving Remus a pointed look. "I've got four Sickles in my pocket right now that says he tricked you somehow, at least the first time."

Remus shifted on the bed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest, as James watched him carefully.

"Yeah. Thought so. He's not a good person, Moony, all right? You used to know that."

"Not to mention," Sirius added, "that he's queerer than a–"

"I get it, Padfoot, okay?" Remus said irritably. "I get it."

"Look," Sirius continued, more angrily than before, "I'm sure it's really tough for Snivellus, just wanting some Gryffindor cock and not being able to get any–"

"–but you can't let him use you like this, Moony," James finished for him. He held up his hands, palms facing Remus, seeking Remus's eyes. "It doesn't _matter_ to me if you want cock, all right?" He glanced to the other two boys. "It doesn't matter to any of us."

Sirius and Peter muttered their half-hearted assent.

"So which is it–" James leaned towards him. "Did he trick you, or did you want it?"

Remus felt a small explosion in his stomach, and he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here, doing _anything _but talking to his best friends about this. They would never understand. "He tricked me at first," he conceded, "and then I wanted it, all right? Just- you have to shut up about it."

"No, Remus, because this is _important_, yeah? It doesn't matter if you want it – what matters," James continued slowly, "is where you go to get it. You start going to Dark wizards, Moony, and people are going to _talk_ about you." He paused to let his words sink in.

"He's not a Dark wizard," Remus retorted, "and neither am I."

Another silence fell over the bed, and Remus's eyes widened.

"_Neither am I!_" he cried, sitting bolt upright and staring at his three friends.

"We know, _we know_," said James quickly, in a reassuring tone, but the damage was done. "I didn't say _we_ think that, all right? I said other people might, and you just don't want to have to deal with that, do you?"

Remus thought about it, and it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that James was right. There might not be anything wrong with Snape, but there was definitely quite a bit wrong with the _image_ of Snape, the sort of reputation he had, the sort of spells he knew. And Remus was a Dark Creature. Why hadn't he thought of this before? It was very, _very _dangerous, what he had been doing.

"No, I know," he said quietly. "I was just–"

"Randy?" Sirius finished helpfully, and Remus laughed.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Moony, I'm saying this as a friend," James began. "It's really hard to live as a pouf, okay? My mum's got this cousin, and he's just a real nutter. Big-time queer. No one in the family'll talk to him."

"Right," Sirius chimed in. "No offence, Moony, but you already have a lot of shit going on, that you need to hide, right? Do you want this, too?"

Remus snorted. "No," he answered truthfully, glancing around at his friends. "No," he repeated, more firmly. "I just- sorry. I've been a prat."

"Blow jobs'll do that to you." Sirius patted his leg sympathetically, then darted a mischievous look at James. "Prongs wouldn't understand that, but _I_ do–"

"Oh, you fucking–" James pounced on Sirius, wrestling him to the bed and punching him in the arm, as Remus and Peter jumped out of the way.

"Get the hell off my bed!" Remus hollered after a moment, suddenly exhausted, and sick of their conversation. He watched for another moment as his friends laughed and rolled around with each other, before he reached out and pushed them hard in mid-roll. They tumbled through the hangings with a muffled _Oof_, landing on the floor and swearing profusely at him.

"G'night, Moony," they each called in turn, as Remus heard them pick themselves up from the floor, still landing the occasional punch.

"Get off my bed, Wormtail," he said quietly to the last boy remaining, who had watched James and Sirius tumble from view with that grin plastered to his face.

Peter turned to look at him. "Moony–"

"Get off my bed," he repeated, struggling to remain calm.

"Okay, okay," Peter muttered. "But I didn't mean to tell them, all right? And it's okay now, anyway. It's better, isn't it?" He looked at Remus hopefully.

_You know we're going to have to get him for this, right?_

"Yeah, Wormtail," Remus replied, giving him a push and trying to ignore his rising feeling of dread. "It's better."

~~~~~

The day before OWLs began, Professor Carleton gave the Potions class a fairly simple review assignment, and Remus let out a sigh of relief – best not to have any difficult assignments this week, so that Snape was less likely to get angry with him for messing them up. The past week had been bad enough, trying to avoid him, while simultaneously shooting him apologetic looks. He glanced over now, feeling a pang of sadness, and caught Snape looking back out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry, you know," Remus said quietly, pretending for the benefit of the others that he was fiddling with the strap on his book bag.

"They know, then?" Snape responded in a tense voice.

"Yeah. I didn't mean for that to happen, all right? I'm- I'm really sorry."

Snape snorted.

"Look," Remus continued, after ensuring that James and Sirius were occupied making smoke rings float up from their cauldron, "they're going to- try to do something to you."

Snape glanced at him. "Did you figure that one out all by yourself?"

"I–"

"_Of course they are_," he sneered. "What do I care? I'm not afraid of them."

Remus didn't know what to say to that, apart from, _Yes you are_, or at least, _Well, you should be_, but those weren't likely to meet with a positive response from Snape, so he didn't say anything for a moment. "Well," he began, only half-joking, "aren't you going to beg for another chance?"

Snape stared at him. "No," he said simply.

"Why not?"

Snape resumed his chopping. "Are you _actually_ an idiot, Lupin, or do you just act that way around me?"

"Um."

"Right, I thought so. Fine – another chance."

"What?"

"You get one more chance. What's it going to be?"

"Wait – I didn't say _I_ get another chance; I said _you_ do. If you beg me for it." Remus grinned at him, satisfied with his logic.

"Beg you for what, exactly - a slobbery blow job that I could do better myself?" Snape folded his arms over his chest and tried to look intimidating.

"Could do better- what?" Remus laughed. "You can't give _yourself_ a blow job."

Snape's cheeks pinkened. "You know what I meant!" he insisted.

"Though I think I'd like to see you try," Remus mused, angering Snape further.

"I meant I could- my _hand_ would- better than you- oh, just fuck off." Snape frowned, and in different circumstances Remus might have even taken it for a pout. His heart tensed, and he suddenly wanted to lean over and wipe that miserable expression off Snape's face with a deep kiss.

But he had promised is friends he wouldn't do that anymore. They were right – Snape was dangerous, with all the reading he did about Dark Arts, and if he ever discovered Remus's secret, well. There would be a _lot_ of shit hitting the fan, and that was guaranteed even if Dumbledore didn't find out. And if he _did_… No. Remus couldn't risk it. He couldn't get himself kicked out of school, just because Snape was such a good kisser.

"I liked this, you know," he said suddenly. "I'm- sorry they found out."

Snape watched him closely. "What are you so afraid of?" he asked at last, and Remus started.

"I–" He paused. "We just- can't. Anymore."

Snape pressed his elbow into Remus's, that secret contact they always used in the middle of class, and Remus's traitorous cock knew the signal by now. He was hard in seconds, pressing his arm back into Snape's and fighting back a gasp, as if his _arm_, even through two layers of clothing, was suddenly his most sensitive erogenous zone.

"Once more," Snape whispered, pushing back, their bodies locked together from shoulder to wrist, and Remus nearly screamed in frustration.

_Fuck fuck fuck_. Why did he have to listen to James and Sirius and bloody Peter? Why was he so worried about what they would do to Snape – and to him – if the two of them didn't stop this sneaking around? Why was – oh god, stop pressing, stop rubbing – it's an _arm_, for god's sake –

"I can't," he choked out, wanting nothing more than to turn and crush his body into Snape's against that counter, tearing their clothes open and _dragging_ their cocks together until the Earth stopped rotating. He knew Snape was just as hard as he was. He knew Snape.

"Fine," Snape replied, stepping to the side and breaking the contact, and Remus almost howled. He dropped his head, gripping the counter with both hands and breathing hard.

"Wait," he pleaded, not looking up, and he didn't even care if the whole class heard him, or noticed his strange behaviour, or even if he got detention for neglecting his potion. He couldn't care about anything other than Snape, and he was crazy for ever thinking he could.

"Once more or not?" Snape repeated, his voice calm, but when Remus turned his head and looked into those eyes he saw the frustration, and the conflict, and the desire – all of which mirrored his own.

"Fine!" Remus whispered back, still breathing hard and hating this entire situation. "_Of course_ once more." He paused and let himself smile a bit in anticipation.

"Where?"

For a split second of insanity, he pondered taking Snape to the Shack. If they could just get a bit of bloody _privacy_, especially if this was to be their last chance, and the Shack would be perfect. "There's a place I go to sometimes," he began, then bit his lip.

Snape looked at him quizzically.

"No, never mind, it's not safe. Let's just say the Forest, like usual. Should be warm tonight."

The bell rang, and Remus rushed to join his friends at the doorway, chattering about inane things to ward off any questions about his lab partner, but he still noticed, with sinking dread, when James glanced over his shoulder at Snape, still packing up his books, then nudged Sirius with his arm. No, they didn't think he noticed, but he saw all the furtive glances, all the looks, and anticipated all the secret plans being made.

If he continued this, his friends would abandon him – that much he understood. They would only take it out on Snape for so long; after awhile, they would start taking it out on Remus, too, and then what? Then he would have no one.

No, it had to end, and it would. But first, he would get one more night.

***

**Chapter 3: One More Night**

That night was one of the strangest, and most exhilarating, of Remus's life, and one he was not likely to forget. Snape seemed to have changed that week, since their cancelled rendezvous the night James and Sirius caught Remus in the hall. He seemed more serious now, more determined, and more sure of himself – not the uncertain kid who had run off to vomit after their first kiss, but someone new, a young man with burning black eyes, watching Remus take his shirt off with the hunger of a Death Row inmate sizing up his last meal.

Remus had reached the clearing first, further into the Forest than they usually went. He wasn't afraid in there; he knew the animals recognised his scent, and stayed as far away from him as possible. He always tried to get there early, to give the creatures time to get the warning to clear off before Snape arrived.

He conjured a mattress now, so thick and soft it was almost nicer than his bed in Gryffindor Tower, and a blanket to match. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just what are you hoping for tonight, Lupin?" he asked with a smirk, and Remus felt himself blush.

Oh, what the hell – it was their last chance; he had nothing to lose. "I'm hoping to get laid," he said with a grin, licking his lips when he saw Snape sink to his knees, pulling his own shirt off as he went.

"Come on, then," Snape challenged, pulling at Remus's legs until he lost his balance and fell on top of Snape with an _oof_, and a laugh.

But the laughter quickly turned to moans and gasps as Snape rolled on top of him and kissed him fiercely. Holy fucking _god_, there was no feeling in the world like Snape kissing him, and Remus didn't care if he'd find _girls_ he liked kissing later, or hell, even other boys; for now, _this_ was all he wanted.

Kissing Snape made Remus forget everything else – he forgot to worry about OWLs and what his parents would say if he scored less than perfect; he forgot to worry about how he was going to keep Padfoot and Prongs from running off to Hogsmeade and wreaking havoc next full moon; and most of all, he forgot the moon entirely. Kissing Snape made his aching joints disappear, his torn muscles mend, and his scarred body heal, even if only for a few minutes. Kissing Snape made him _normal_, in a way – he wasn't some grotesque Dark Creature during those sweet moments when Snape's mouth was on his; he was just a normal sixteen-year-old boy with a healthy erection and a wild imagination, learning about all the marvellous things that lips, and tongues, and fingertips, and thighs, and bare chests could _do_ to a person.

He tried not to think about the possibility that kissing Lily, or Amelia, or Alice would be quite a bit more _normal_ than kissing Snape, if normalcy was what he was after. But the thought of kissing anyone other than Snape made him wince, in fact, and as Snape moved over top of him now on their makeshift mattress, the Forest quiet except for their laboured breathing, it occurred to Remus that he could quite happily kiss Snape until the end of eternity, and never get tired of it.

Snape paused then and sat up, knees still pinning Remus down on his back. "Did you mean that?" he asked quietly.

Remus struggled to sit up on his elbows, and his erection bumped Snape's leg in the movement. "Ah," he gasped, and Snape grinned. "Mean what?"

"About hoping to get laid."

"Oh. Um, yeah, I think I did." He felt his cheeks redden, but what did he care – he liked Snape, he felt comfortable with Snape, and he surprisingly didn't mind saying something like that to Snape.

They gazed at each other for a moment, Remus trying to work out what could be going through Snape's mind. "What- what's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

Snape climbed off him and sat cross-legged on the other side of the mattress. He looked like he was trying to answer, and opened his mouth several times as if to start, but then closed it again.

"You… don't want to," Remus said for him, after a minute of this behaviour, and Snape looked up sharply.

"No! I mean, yes – I do. I just…" He clamped his mouth shut again.

Remus smiled, then scooted over to sit next to Snape, resting his chin on the other boy's shoulder and placing a tentative hand on his knee. "Then what?"

"You know we're not supposed to be doing any of this, right?" Snape said suddenly, in that voice of his that was much too old for him, and sounded like it had always been like that.

Remus pulled back to look at him. "Oh, not this again," he muttered, and Snape's brow creased.

"Not what? Look, you know as well as I do that we're just… freaks, right? You never want to talk about that, but you have to admit it." He frowned and stared up at the sky.

"Great. So this could be our last chance for awhile, and you want to spend it all crazy because I don't have tits? Fuck off!"

"_You_ fuck off!"

"No! You started this in the first place. I wouldn't be like this if you hadn't kissed me."

"Oh, _I_ made you gay? Fine, go snog Lily Evans, for all I care."

"I don't _want_ to snog Lily Evans!" Remus cried. "And shut up – I'm not- that."

"What?"

Remus didn't answer, staring hard at the empty sky and trying to figure out where this had all gone so wrong.

"Oh," Snape sneered, "you're not _gay_? Get a clue, Lupin. If you want to snog _me_ over Lily Evans, then you're gay, and you're also a freak. Nobody else in the world will understand you, but I will, all right? Because I'm just as big a freak." His voice wavered on the last words, and Remus looked over at him again.

"I don't want to be gay," he whispered, a random image of James's mother's cousin floating in his mind – someone he pictured as an awful man in snug trousers, with food on his face and grease in his hair.

When Snape didn't say anything, Remus moved forward and rested his chin on the other boy's shoulder again. Snape turned his head and looked at him with soft eyes. "You shouldn't be," he replied, then forced a small smile. "And there's still time to save you, anyway. It's- it's good they found out, you know. They can still- I don't know… they can set you up with girls and everything. You'll be better off."

"Wait." Remus lifted his head. "You just said I'm a gay freak, and that I have to accept that, and now you think my friends are going to save me? What the hell's the matter with you tonight?"

"I just- argh!" Snape fell onto his back and pounded his fist into the mattress, then lifted it to rest on his forehead.

Remus laughed without meaning to, laying back and leaning over the boy beside him. "Hey, Snape?" he asked, a playful note in his voice.

Snape glared at him.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

He heard Snape's breath hitch, though the boy said nothing.

"Mm, good. And do you want to… touch me? Like before, my scars, I mean?"

Snape continued to stare at the sky, his lips a tight line.

"Okay, good. And…" He swallowed, his heart hammering. "Do you want to… suck me, like… you did before?"

Snape closed his eyes at that, his chest heaving.

"Because I _really_ liked that, you know. And I really liked- doing it to you, too." Oh good _lord_, Remus had no idea when and where he had developed the nerve to say all of this, but he couldn't stop.

Snape turned his head at that, a carefully suppressed smile threatening to break through on his lips. "Really?" he asked.

"Uh, _yeah_." Remus's eyes were wide. "Wasn't that pretty obvious?"

The grin succeeded in breaking through that careful façade, and Remus's heart flipped over. "Yeah, I thought maybe- you liked it," Snape admitted, his cheeks turning pink.

Remus relaxed. Now that he had broken through Snape's defences, this game could be fun. "Did I ever," he confirmed, leaning in to nuzzle Snape's neck, his tongue flicking down to his collarbone, then back up. "I mean, I hear it's nothing like what you can do to _yourself_, but I'm not half bad, right?"

Snape rolled his eyes, then punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" Remus laughed before continuing. "And I also like… when you… you know, use your hand."

Snape moaned, turning onto his side to face Remus.

"You know what I always think of?" he asked slyly, his fingers playing with the long strands of hair that had fallen over Snape's shoulder, and Snape quirked an eyebrow.

"What?"

"That day when you got us detention, and I made you wash that stupid pestle, and… well, for fuck's sake, Snape, you were totally _groping_ the thing."

Snape's eyes widened. "I was not!"

"You were so!" Remus started to laugh, and when he thought of Snape not even _knowing_ what he had been doing that day, he couldn't stop. "You mean you didn't do it on purpose?"

"No! I- I was just washing it."

Remus stared at him in disbelief. "You looked like you were trying to get it _off_, you pervert!" He buried his face in Snape's shoulder, shaking with laughter. "You were like, _fisting_ it. I've never gotten hard faster in my life!"

Snape gave in and chuckled, his hand in Remus's hair, pulling him close. "Well, you looked good that day. I must have been- frustrated."

Remus shook his head and burrowed further into the crook of Snape's neck, still smiling. "Well anyway, I'll never forget that as long as I live, especially when you're- doing that to me." He raised his head and kissed Snape slowly and surely. All that talk about the pestle, and all that kissing, was making him painfully hard.

Snape moaned into his mouth, then pushed him back on the mattress and climbed on top of him. "And is that what you want- now?" he whispered when he pulled back from the kiss.

"Maybe."

"Ah, right. You want sex." Snape gave him an uncertain look, and Remus flushed.

"Well, I don't know – do you?" He brought his hands down to cup Snape's arse, pulling their hips together and gasping at the friction against his cock at last.

Snape sat up, straddling Remus, his fingers on Remus's chest, tracing patterns again. "Well, yeah, but…" He looked away.

"What?" Remus asked gently, his hands moving up Snape's torso, then back down again to rest at the waistband of his trousers.

"I don't- know what that means," he finished, blushing again, and Remus's eyes widened.

Oh. It wasn't a bad point, really, and Remus realised that he didn't know, either. He figured Snape would. "Well," he ventured, "is it…" He trailed off, furrowing his brow, then looking up at the other boy hopefully, waiting for further instructions.

"I don't- know," Snape stammered. "I mean, I've read a few things…" He bit his lip.

"You have? Where?"

"Just- never mind." Snape sat back on his heels and his shoulders deflated, his hands resting on Remus's stomach.

Looking up at him, so anxious and defeated, Remus couldn't help but laugh. "Let me get this straight," he said, pushing himself up on his elbows again. "We both want to… have sex–" Snape's cheeks flamed – "but we don't know _how_. And- you might have read about it in a book once… but you're not sure."

Snape stared at him for a second, then he too started to grin, then started to chuckle, then ended up collapsing on top of Remus in a full-bodied laugh. Remus joined him, clutching at his shoulders and pulling him close as they howled together at the ridiculousness of it all.

But soon something more than laughter kept them rocking together, as Snape buried his head in Remus's neck and Remus wrapped his arms around Snape's back and pulled him in close, pressing his hips up and gasping when he felt Snape's erection rub against him.

Suddenly Snape sat up again, panting and swallowing hard.

"What?" asked Remus, sitting up as well, their legs still tangled together.

Snape glared at him. "Just–" He grimaced.

"_What_?" Remus repeated in frustration.

"I'm not going to be able to _wait_ to find out what sex is, if you don't stop… rubbing like that, all right?"

Remus blinked, then started laughing again. "God, you're a lot of work, you know that?"

Snape scowled at him and shook his head.

"Here, then," Remus continued, moving Snape off of him and unfastening his trousers quickly, then pushing them down and off, followed by his pants. He was more than outrageously nervous about this, because despite all the things they had done, he and Snape had never been naked together. But this was getting ridiculous. He was quite sure his cock was going to pop off if they didn't start doing _something_ pretty soon, and anyway, what did he have to lose? This was supposed to be their last night together, wasn't it? The thought made his stomach clench with fear and anger, but he pushed it away.

Kicking his clothes aside, he reclined onto the makeshift bed again, trying to look more confident than he felt. He looked up and noticed that Snape had turned an odd colour, somewhere between dust and ash, and was breathing hard – panting, really, and his eyes were locked on Remus's straining cock. Suddenly his hand flew to his own trousers and he pressed down hard, but it was too late, and he made a sort of squeaking sigh and screwed his face up in agony and ecstasy.

Watching him, Remus knew in a split-second that he wasn't going to be able to wait either, and he grabbed his cock firmly and began to stroke. Snape jerked his head up, eyes wide. Oh yes, they had done quite a few things to each other over the past two months, but not this. Remus moaned, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt himself unravel, warmth jetting into his hand, his eyes locked on Snape.

They were still for several seconds, both panting, their cheeks flushed with arousal and slight embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry," said Snape at last, his face reddening further as he sat kneeling over Remus's thighs, and Remus exhaled dramatically and grinned.

"I'm not," he teased, then gave a jerk of his head in the direction of their crumpled robes. "Get a wand, if you can reach, and then think of a cleaning charm that won't leave detergent on me."

He saw Snape hide a smile as he obeyed, cleaning them up and gazing down at Remus.

"And if I'm not putting my clothes back on for awhile," he added, "a warming charm wouldn't be a bad idea."

Snape's eyes widened. "Not… for awhile?" he repeated, then quickly cast the charm around them.

"No," Remus confirmed, suddenly feeling more confident than he ever had before. He felt as though lying naked on this forest floor with Snape was the only thing he was meant to do his whole life. "Now stop playing this innocent game, and take your stupid trousers off."

~~~~~

Oh yes, getting Snape out of his trousers had definitely been a good idea, because at that point it became apparent that all Snape's inhibitions were tied to his trousers, and getting rid of the second did wonders for erasing the first. Remus had never been more nervous, and more excited, in his life as he was in those next few moments, lying on his side next to Snape.

He tossed the blanket over both of them, smiling broadly to mask his anxiety. Away from the open air, and the prying eyes of the stars, their inhibitions and insecurities began to evaporate, and Remus couldn't help but groan as Snape's body pressed into his. Snape's fingers had fallen to Remus's scars again, as they lay together in a moment of post-orgasmic (if premature) bliss, and Remus treasured the companionable silence between them more than he thought he would. It shouldn't be like this, he thought. It should be harder, more awkward, and tense. Not comfortable like this.

"All right, then," Remus offered after a moment, his curiosity pushing him to interrupt their comfortable silence. Snape pulled back slightly to look at him. "So what's in this book you read?"

Snape stared at him. "What?"

"You said- you read a book about it. I just- I wanted to know." He chewed on his bottom lip as Snape rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at Remus.

"It- you're supposed to- never mind. I don't want to do it, anyway."

Remus watched him for a moment, then grinned. "I don't believe you."

"Don't believe what?"

"That you don't want to do it."

"Well, I don't. I don't care if you don't believe it." He frowned and dropped his eyes.

"Snape!" Remus cried, his eyes wide. "Why are you so weird?

"I'm not weird! It's just–" Snape faltered. "You won't like it."

Remus laughed outright at that and rolled on top of Snape, pinning him down. His skin flamed again at the sensation of being so close to Snape, lying on top of him like this. The very thought of being here with him at all gave Remus a small thrill. He shifted his weight and let his cock brush against Snape's, just to hear the other boy gasp.

"Come on," he teased. "Tell me."

Snape's dark eyes gazed up at him for a long time, and Remus could tell he was thinking it over. He moved his hips again to give Snape some incentive.

"I mean," he continued in a low voice, "we could do it this way." He pushed down hard, groaning at the friction with Snape's straining cock, and for a second he thought he might come again. Honestly, they would never get to this sex thing if they both couldn't keep from coming every ten minutes just from the thought of it.

Snape's head fell back against the mattress and his neck muscles tensed. "Ah," he muttered, gritting his teeth in concentration. "This way is- fine," he managed.

But Remus lifted off him with Herculean willpower, sitting back on his heels and crossing his arms over his chest. "No. Tell me what else you know."

Snape's eyes glittered in what Remus could only imagine was exasperation, as he sat up and easily flipped Remus over, pushing his legs up and settling between them in a few short seconds.

Remus's back hit the mattress and a thrill jolted his stomach, as his cock strained for touch. Oh god, how was it possible that _Snape_, of all people, could undo him like this? He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, hardly daring to anticipate what Snape might do next.

It was a sound strategy, that, because what Snape did next he could never have anticipated.

A simple finger started it. A lone, slender finger, with a first knuckle just slightly crooked, made its way up to Snape's mouth and slipped between his lips. Remus was certain he heard his cock _whimper_ at the sight. The finger stayed where it was, Snape's wet lips moving over the length of it, licking every bit of it. His other hand, meanwhile, had travelled to Remus's cock, grasping it lightly.

Remus moaned, unable to stop himself, as Snape slowly stroked his cock. He looked down to find that finger leaving Snape's mouth, dropping behind the other hand on Remus's body. It brushed past his balls to probe further, gently, searching for –

Remus scrambled up into a sitting position again, his cock throbbing. "Wait," he warned. "What are you-"

"That's it," Snape answered, looking both pleased with himself and terrified at the same time.

"That's _what_?"

"That's what I read."

Remus stared at him. "_What's_ what you read?"

"That! I'm supposed to do... _that_."

Remus's chest heaved. "With- your finger?" he asked uncertainly.

Snape glared at him.

"With- oh. But- oh. You're kidding."

Snape shook his head.

Remus was silent for a moment, trying to keep his eyes from falling to Snape's cock, from sizing it up, from wondering how it would ever - _God_.

"So do you want to do it or not?" Snape challenged.

"I- it won't- fit."

Snape stared at him again, exasperated. "Well, we have to- get ready first."

Remus realised he was breathing very quickly indeed. "But that's where- that's what-" He frowned. "Are you sure you're supposed to put it _there_? I'm not a girl, you know." He looked away, his face flaming.

But Snape's eyebrows shot up. "That's not where you put it in girls!" he cried.

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

Remus paused. "You read that somewhere too, didn't you?" he muttered.

"I- so?"

"Snape, how much time have you spent reading about sex, versus actually doing it?" he asked, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

"What, like a ratio?"

It was Remus's turn to stare. "Yeah, like a ratio," he confirmed, his eyes narrowed.

Snape thought for a moment. "Probably... thirty to... zero."

They watched each other for a few seconds before Remus started to laugh. He pulled Snape down on top of him again, smiling into his ear. "That's not a very good ratio."

Snape started kissing his neck, wet, almost sloppy kisses that reminded Remus of what that mouth had done to a finger not that long ago, and he groaned happily. "No," Snape agreed between kisses. "I don't suppose it is."

Remus pulled Snape's head up so that their lips met hungrily. He let his tongue slide forward, finding Snape's and tangling them together. He felt his heart rate quicken as Snape lowered his body again, his chest pushing into Remus's, their legs intertwined, and their cocks rubbing in a way that was making it very hard to think clearly.

The last coherent thought he remembered having was: _I want to_. As Snape continued to kiss him fiercely, hands in his hair, he remembered that wet finger, and the idea of what he was about to do at once terrified and aroused him.

As if sensing his thoughts, Snape broke off the kiss, lingering an extra second to suck Remus's bottom lip before pulling away and gazing at him. "Mm," he grunted, and Remus smiled.

"Hey, Snape?" he whispered, his voice wavering a bit. "You can- do it."

Snape's expression didn't change. "Really?" he asked, and Remus found himself nodding, staring into those dark eyes and thinking himself a complete fool to be having such strong feelings for _Snape_, of all people, but no longer able to deny that the feelings were there, and that they wanted him to get as close to Snape as possible.

"Tell me what to do," he said, a bit timid now. He wished he had read some of Snape's books.

"All right," Snape answered, pushing himself up on his knees again, and Remus lost his breath at the sight of the other boy's cock, hard and leaking, staring at him as though daring him to change his mind. Without thinking, he reached out to stroke it, his fist closing around it with firm pressure.

Snape closed his eyes. "Cut it out," he muttered after a moment, an irritated expression on his face. "I have to be able to- just, stop that."

Remus laughed again. "Oh, all right. I couldn't resist. You're so–"

"Yeah, I know, but you have to–"

"Okay! I stopped." Remus glared at him. "Now what?"

He looked down at Remus, splayed out on his back, and seemed to consider, as if trying to remember specific drawings in his books. "You can stay like that if you want, or you can turn over. I think."

"Turn over?" Remus sat up a bit.

"Yeah. Like–" Snape pushed on Remus's right hip to nudge him, and Remus complied, rolling onto his stomach.

"Like this?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Oh."

"What?" He twisted his head around and found Snape's gaze on him again, then felt soft fingers running down his back, his arse, his thighs. "Oh," he moaned.

"I think I- like you like this," Snape muttered, using both hands now to caress the muscles of Remus's shoulder blades. He collapsed on top of Remus, letting his chest push into Remus's back, and the sensation of such pressure on him from another body thrilled Remus.

"I think I do, too," he breathed, letting his head rest in his folded arms as Snape's hands fell to either side of his shoulders. He gasped as Snape shifted his hips, and Remus felt the shocking and unbelievably arousing sensation of Snape's cock against the cleft of his arse. "Oh," he managed.

Snape pushed against him again, but then drew back, with what self-control Remus didn't know, since he himself was busy humping the mattress. "So, which way?" he asked, sitting up.

Remus whipped his head around, panting. "What?"

"Do you want to stay like that, or turn over again?"

"Do I- fuck, Snape, who _cares_? Just- fuck. Do that- do that again." He suddenly felt cold and bare without Snape's chest against his back.

Snape lowered himself again, and as Remus felt the other boy's peaked nipples brush against his shoulder blades, he whimpered. Snape's hips drew up against his arse, his cock falling just too low, brushing into Remus's sensitive sac. He shivered at the sensation and bit his lip to keep from crying out. He pushed his hips back a bit, hoping for more of that delicious contact.

Snape started kissing his back, lightly and quickly, moving across his shoulders and down his spine. It felt like a burst of bright light, every nerve end shooting out from his spine, down his arms, and out his fingertips. But just as suddenly as it had begun, Snape stopped, sitting up again on the mattress.

~~~~~

"Okay, I just need to think for a second," Snape said, frowning in concentration.

"Oh." Remus rolled over onto his back again, trying to hide his disappointment, and waited. He eyed Snape with undisguised curiosity, then waited some more.

Snape's lips were moving a bit, as if he was reciting something to himself. He would do that for a few seconds, then curse and scowl, falling silent until inspiration struck again.

After several minutes of this behaviour, Remus ventured a question. "Er- what are you trying to do?"

Snape stopped muttering under his breath and looked up. "I'm trying to- remember something I read."

"What?"

And exasperated glare. "If I knew _what_, I wouldn't have to remember it, would I?" he shot back.

"Okay, okay." Remus rolled his eyes. "Maybe I can help."

"I doubt that," Snape replied, and Remus frowned. "But I think I've got it." He knelt in front of Remus again and started to bring his hands to his cock, then looked down and stopped. "Oh, for god's sake," he muttered, and Remus followed his eyes, to discover that trying to remember spells was not an activity that Snape's cock had found particularly engrossing. It appeared to be fast asleep, lolling against the side of his leg.

Remus couldn't help but laugh, until he glanced down to find his own prick in a similar sorry state. "Ack!"

"Here," Snape offered, pushing him back onto the mattress again and climbing on top of him. "You have to kiss me some more."

"Oh!" Remus smiled. "Well, all right then." He wrapped an arm around Snape's neck and pulled him close, their lips brushing softly. He tasted nervous but determined, Remus decided as he deepened the kiss, parting his lips and letting Snape's rough tongue into his mouth. He heard himself start to whimper a little bit, pleading with Snape through his groans of pleasure to toss the books aside and just _do it_.

He pulled Snape on top of him and wrapped his arms around the other boy's back, then grinned into the kiss as he felt Snape's renewed erection pushing against his leg. "Mm," he sighed, pulling back to whisper in Snape's ear. "I think that worked."

Snape just groaned and kissed him again, more aggressively now, as though the slow tease of the evening so far had finally driven him mad. He pressed down on Remus's body, nearly smothering him with his weight, and Remus let himself be happily suffocated, fingernails digging into Snape's back as the gasps into his mouth grew more urgent.

When he felt Snape's hand moving down his body, a shiver of excitement passed through him, and he had to remind himself to keep his restraint – that he wanted to enjoy this and not let it end too quickly. Snape's hands kept travelling down, and he sucked on Remus's bottom lip in such a distracting, wonderful way that Remus barely noticed when Snape nudged his legs apart and settled between them. He was so caught up in the kiss, of the feeling of Snape's coarse hair between his fingers and Snape's pounding heart against his, that he almost forgot to notice when one of Snape's fingers trailed down his cock, along his balls, and pushed gently past his entrance.

Almost.

He felt himself clench down on it without meaning to, his body protesting the intrusion. Snape pulled his mouth away just a bit, resting his forehead against Remus's and breathing against his lips. "_Relax_."

Remus blinked and tried to obey, his blood racing from the terror and excitement of this utterly _strange_ situation, and as Snape began to move the finger around a little bit, he pulled his face back from Remus's a fraction more, and looked deep into his eyes.

Their gazes locked, and at that moment Remus felt _safe_, in a way he couldn't explain, in a way he never thought he would feel. Snape pushed in further and Remus winced, but didn't break eye contact, and didn't want Snape to stop. He pushed in even more, and Remus panted a breath that came out like a gasp, and a shameless moan, and Snape's eyes lit up.

"All right?" he whispered, still holding that gaze, and Remus never wanted to look at anything else, ever.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Just- maybe a bit… dry."

Snape nodded and slowed the finger's movements. He pulled it back, freeing it from Remus's body, and Remus had to swallow hard to keep from admitting that as strange as it had been, he felt even stranger without it.

Snape sat back on his heels again, still watching Remus carefully, his hand closing around his own pulsing erection. "I was trying to remember the charm," he explained hesitantly, and Remus nodded.

"Oh." His eyes fell to the hand on the cock in front of him, transfixed.

Snape closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in concentration, his fist firm on his shaft, and Remus bit his bottom lip and shuddered with excitement as he watched. _It was happening_, he thought with a thrill. He was here, and this was Snape, and they were naked in the middle of the Forest, and Remus's entire body was burning with anticipation, because they were going to _have sex_, they really were, and he was ready, he was aching, he wanted nothing more than to lie back and watch Snape move over him again, pushing into him not with a slender, dry finger, but with the smooth, silky head of his cock, the thick fullness entering him and joining them together, and Remus didn't care if he had never even _heard_ about the act thirty minutes ago – now, he wanted to do it so badly he could hardly wait another second.

He glanced up at Snape's pale face, eyes closed, and took a sharp intake of breath when the other boy uttered the lubrication spell.

"_Lubrio!_"

Remus's heart was hammering so fast he thought it might jump right out of his chest and fly across the Forest. Snape opened his eyes and met his gaze, before they both glanced expectantly down at his cock.

Nothing.

Snape frowned, moving his fist back and forth a little bit, as a test.

"Maybe you need a wand?" asked Remus helpfully, biting down his disappointment.

"I don't need a wand!" Snape snapped. "You think a spell like _this_ assumes people always have _wands_ nearby?"

"Well, then maybe you got the pronunciation wrong."

Snape narrowed his eyes. He never got anything wrong, and Remus knew it, but Snape resumed his position and prepared to try again. He began to stroke himself earlier this time, establishing a focused rhythm before uttering the incantation again. Remus held his breath.

"_Lubrio!_"

Still nothing.

Snape let out a stream of rather aristocratic curse words and Remus grinned, shaking his head.

"_That's_ what you were trying to remember?" Remus started to laugh. "You don't have to be a Latin whiz to remember _that_ one, Snape."

"I didn't see _you_ trying to help!" Snape sputtered. "And anyway, I didn't forget the _word_, you idiot – it's just that the–" He flicked his wrist around a bit in the air – "hand movements are really specific, I think."

They sat quietly for a moment, Snape still apparently searching his brain for the solution, and Remus growing increasingly desperate to just _get off_ again, no matter how they did it.

"All right, Snape," he offered when he could stand the silence no longer, "we'll just do something else."

Snape glared at him, and Remus reminded himself that the other boy never got anything wrong, and never accepted failure.

In one quick movement, Snape had leaned forward and positioned his cock behind Remus's balls, just outside his entrance.

Remus raised his eyebrows and the grin fell from his face. "Wait," he pleaded. "Not without- just- hold on and let me think."

"I think maybe you have to be starting to- do it- for the charm to work," Snape muttered.

"Now you're just making things up!" Remus exclaimed. "None of this is _actually_ in a book, is it?"

"Yes it is! Just, be quiet." Snape took a deep breath and fell forward a bit onto the palms of his hands, spread on either side of Remus's hips. He caught Remus's gaze again and let it linger, then leaned down and licked a slow, hot trail from the middle of Remus's chest up to the hollow of his throat.

Remus whimpered.

"Let me try," Snape pleaded softly, gazing down at him again. He moved his hips a tantalising bit forward, and Remus's heart started to pound again at the feeling of the head of Snape's cock pressing _there_.

"All right, do it," he whispered, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted the charm to work this time or not.

"_Lubrio_," Snape recited, his voice soft but steady, his eyes boring into Remus's.

At that point, their romantic reverie was interrupted by several things happening at once. Snape tried to move his hips again, in experimental fashion, but ended up finding himself sliding forward into Remus's body, much faster than he had intended, as three times the requisite amount of lubrication slithered between them.

Remus, meanwhile, managed to overcome the sudden lack of air in his lungs at the pain to holler an uncensored, "Waaah!" and clutch Snape's forearms.

Snape, upon realising he had entered Remus too quickly and was hurting him, tried to pull back again, but at that moment Remus's knees reflexively closed around his hips, locking him in place, as Remus's passage tensed around his cock.

They both stopped trying to move.

"I've hurt you," Snape said at last, panic in his eyes.

"Sort of," Remus agreed, still rigid as a broomstick.

"I can't- get out- unless you relax," Snape gritted though clenched teeth.

"Oh." Remus considered this, and tried to focus his energies on unlocking all his muscles. When he did, he noticed it didn't hurt quite as much, and that Snape was moving a little bit.

"Okay, just move your knees," Snape ordered, wriggling his hips a bit more, in an effort to free himself from where Remus had him pinned.

Remus cried out, as a wave of electricity crashed over him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," Snape muttered, terror lining his face. "I'm really sorry, fuck, just–" He tried to break free again, but rather than relaxing the grip of his legs around Snape's hips, Remus tightened them. And tightened them more. And then somehow found himself wrapping his legs completely around Snape and pulling him close, until the other boy's cock was fully sheathed inside him.

The cry became a moan. The ache became a tingle. The hairs on the back of his neck danced, sending a jolt of sensation down his spine.

"What are you doing?" Snape hissed. "Are you crazy? Here, let me- oh. Oh."

Remus felt warm, and wet, and completed. He arched his back and parted his lips a little, panting as he gazed up at Snape. "Be quiet," he breathed. "Just–" Another moan escaped his lips and he strained his neck against the mattress, as Snape pulled back a fraction, then thrust in again.

"I don't know–"

"Like _that_."

"Like–"

"_Oh_." Remus couldn't talk. "Would you shut up?" he managed. "Just- ah. Do that."

He closed his eyes and let sensation overtake him. It was by far the _strangest_ feeling he had ever experienced, and for someone whose entire body destroyed and rearranged itself every month, that was saying something. Snape withdrew again, about halfway, then pushed forward, grunting each time, and Remus's head swam. Snape. Snape's cock. Snape's cock was _inside him_, moving, pushing, pulsing, and it was making his stomach flip over, and his chest ache, and his fingertips prickle.

_Snape's cock was inside him_.__

This wasn't the same as those times when Snape's cock had been in his mouth, or in his fist, or even that time Snape's cock had dragged itself against his own, pressing into him and rubbing them together until they came in a dizzying rush. This was nothing like those times. This was his body, the most intimate part of his body, a part that nobody had ever been anywhere near, a part that was his and his alone. He couldn't imagine allowing this from anyone else – not his friends, not Lily, not anyone. There were people in his life that he trusted, who knew him better than most others – who knew his secrets and helped him through the pain and the howling and the loneliness in the Shack every month.

But this was different, this was something else entirely, and there was no one in his life he trusted the way he trusted Snape right at this moment, because _Snape's cock was inside him_.

His fingers clutched at the other boy's back as his heels pushed into the back of Snape's thighs. The black hair was hanging over his face as Snape's head dropped between his shoulders, his arms starting to tremble at the effort of holding himself up. Remus pulled him down until his arms collapsed, and their chests pressed together as Snape began rocking into him furiously. Snape's belly rubbed against Remus's cock, and all he could do was wrap his arms tighter around Snape and hope he never, ever had to let go.

He wasn't floating on air or anything. He felt thick, weighted, anchored. He felt terrified, and enraptured. It hurt, and it didn't; he couldn't decide. It felt _strange_, but in a good way, and he really wanted to know what it would feel like in another five minutes.

His heart raced and his blood pounded as he neared release. The sound of Snape's moans in his ear was making him weak, and he suspected he was making similar sounds, but he couldn't hear them, he couldn't stop them, he couldn't do anything but _hold on_, his body a mess of sensation and emotion. To his horror, he felt _tears_ pricking the back of his eyes, and he squeezed his lids shut against them.

"_Remus_," he heard Snape whisper into his neck, then he heard it again, and again, and the fucking tears broke through as it all overpowered him and he came with a violent shudder between their bellies. He felt himself clench down hard on Snape, who continued to thrust wildly into his body as Remus's fingernails dug into the boy's shoulders. He felt Snape stiffen and jerk inside him, and he took a deep breath to keep himself from dissolving straight through the Forest floor from the sensation.

Snape just _came_ inside him. _Inside _him. Remus couldn't wrap his mind around it. It was too much, an event so monumental he didn't think he would ever recover. His legs shook and he turned his wet face to the side as Snape collapsed on top of him, heaving and sighing and holding him tightly.

He buried his face in Snape's thick hair, hoping it would muffle his words. "I think… I love you," he murmured before he could stop himself, his mind and body thrumming with emotions he couldn't hold back.

Snape turned slowly and gazed at him for a moment, a shy smile on his lips, then he leaned in and kissed Remus, gently and urgently and perfectly. When he pulled back, his eyes were haunted, their blackness resting like coal against his face. "Then I think… you're crazier than I thought you were," he replied softly.

~~~~~

Remus wanted to lie together for awhile afterwards, Snape's lithe body pressing into his as their limbs tangled together, flashbacks of sensation whirring through his mind, but Snape had other ideas.

"We should get back," he said curtly, after allowing a moment of post-coital snuggling. He rose to his knees and groped around the edges of the mattress for his shirt, and Remus reluctantly sat up and watched him. Now that it was all over he had to admit that his arse was feeling rather sore, and… sticky. He really wanted a shower. He really wanted Snape to join him. He briefly wondered if they could conjure one under the nearest oak tree.

Snape dressed quickly, pulling on his shirt and trousers, fastening his belt and tying his shoes, then hauling his heavy robe over his head against the night air. He stood to straighten his sleeves as Remus gazed up at him, still reeling from the intensity of everything he was feeling.

"It's- you _could _stay," he mumbled, trying to hide his disappointment.

Snape looked away. "No. I have to go."

Remus sat cross-legged under the blanket, still naked as the day he was born but not caring one whit. He ran a hand over his face. "I just- okay. I know."

"Don't get any romantic ideas in your head, Lupin," Snape warned, turning towards him suddenly and glaring down from his standing position. "This is over." His voice wavered a little, Remus was sure of it.

Remus blinked. _No_. "Maybe it doesn't- have to be," he said quietly.

Snape stared at him for a second, then knelt down in front of him. That haunted look was back in his eyes, Remus could tell. For eyes that colour, such a deep, penetrating, _solid_ colour, Remus was surprised at how many levels of emotion he was learning to detect within them. "It does have to be," Snape confirmed in a low voice, before switching to a lighter tone. "Don't get all sappy over it, all right? That's all I need."

"_What's_ all you need?" Remus challenged. Now he was getting angry. They had just… just… done _that_, something so incredible and intimate and bloody fucking _amazing_ that Remus was sure he would never forget it as long as he lived, and Snape was brushing it off? No.

"Look, I've got enough to deal with now, all right? I don't need you getting all- like this." He took a deep breath and reached for Remus's shirt, tossing it at him. "Go back to the castle, Lupin, before your _friends_ come out looking for you." He pronounced the offensive word as though it hurt his tongue.

His friends. That's what this was about. He grabbed Snape's arm as the other boy went to stand up again. "They're not looking for me," he insisted, "and they can't- do anything. Not anymore."

Snape watched him carefully for a moment, then snorted a bitter laugh. "No? Try again. They know about this, Lupin, and I'm the one that'll pay." He broke free of Remus's grip and held up his hand when Remus began to protest. "It doesn't matter, all right? I don't care what they do. Don't feel bad or anything." He muttered the last bit under his breath.

Remus shook his head. "Snape," he said evenly. "No. They won't do anything. I swear they won't."

"Oh yeah?" Snape raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Look who's suddenly going to stand up to them."

Remus frowned, dropping his gaze to the ground. That hurt more than it should have, especially since a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that Snape was right. He picked himself up and stood to face the other boy, his legs still unsteady. He reached for Snape's hand and held it tightly, so that he couldn't pull it away. "_I will_," he insisted.

Snape was silent.

Remus moved forward another step, still squeezing Snape's hand, and brought his free hand up to brush a strand of hair out of the other boy's eyes. He leaned in slowly, tentatively, and placed a soft kiss on Snape's lips, sucking gently at the bottom one, then gliding his tongue over it shyly. He pulled back and regarded Snape again, to find his eyes closed and his chest heaving. "Do you trust me?" he asked, a finger falling down Snape's cheek.

Snape remained immobile for another moment, then slowly opened his eyes and gazed at Remus with that haunted look. _There_ was the Snape that Remus wanted to see right now, not the one who had risen so abruptly and tried to leave; _there_ was the Snape that he had just made love to, _had sex with_, lost his virginity to – oh god, that's what it was, that's what this was called, that's why this was so incredible – _there_ was the Snape that had just been _inside_ him, moving and pulsing and gasping and shuddering. And there was the person he had just decided he loved, for what it was worth.

Snape broke their gaze at last and let his forehead fall gently into Remus's, his nose against Remus's cheek. He took a deep breath and muttered one simple word. "Yes."

***

**Chapter 4: Lupin's Worst Memory**

 

OWLs went better than Remus would have expected. He felt prepared; he had made a revision schedule months ago and stuck with it. He was still a bit worried about Transfiguration, since his friends always laughed and swatted the book out of his hand when he tried to study from it – _What? Easiest subject in the world, Moony. Don't you think so, Padfoot?_ – and no matter how many times he tried to convince them that perhaps if he could _control_ his animal changes, he might not need the textbook – they never listened.

But eight of his nine exams were now over, and the latest – Defence Against the Dark Arts – had gone very well. Remus found himself in a jovial mood as they exited the Great Hall amidst a throng of their fellow fifth-years.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" Sirius teased with a smirk on his face.

"Loved it," he answered, smiling. "_Give five signs that identify the werewolf_. Excellent question."

"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" James raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Think I did," said Remus in a serious voice, as they headed towards the great front doors of the castle, and the welcome June sunshine beyond. "One: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin."

The three of them laughed, but Peter just looked confused, as usual. "I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail," he said anxiously, "but I couldn't think what else–"

"How thick are you, Wormtail?" James snapped. "You run round with a werewolf once a month–"

"Keep your voice down," Remus said through gritted teeth, suddenly not in the mood to joke about question ten anymore. He caught sight of Snape out of the corner of his eye, studying his exam paper as the other students jostled around him and out onto the lawn, and Remus bit his lip. It had been over a week since their night together in the Forest, and loathe as Remus was to admit it… he _missed_ Snape. His body was just starting to feel normal again, after he had spent the first few days following their night together walking a bit gingerly, and sitting down rather delicately. But now he found that he missed the sensation of it. Snape had done that to him; Snape had been _that close_ to him; Snape had –

He sighed as they walked out into the fresh air, the other students around them still chattering about the exam. It didn't help to dwell on the situation, especially when Snape – not to mention James and Sirius – had made it clear that it was _over_.

"Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake," Sirius was saying as they headed across the lawn. "I'll be surprised if I don't get 'Outstanding' on it at least."

"Me too," James agreed, reaching into his pocket.

Remus rolled his eyes and grinned. Always so modest, his best friends. But he felt fairly confident about that exam as well; he had been studying hard, and it seemed to have paid off. He watched as James pulled a struggling Golden Snitch out of his pocket.

"Where'd you get that?" Sirius asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Nicked it," said James, with that casual smirk Remus knew meant that his friend was immensely pleased with himself. He started playing with the Snitch, releasing it from his grip for one, two, three seconds as a time to see how far away it would fly, then grasping it with lightning-fast reflexes just before it took off across the lawn and out of reach. He was as skilled with it on the ground as he was on the Quidditch pitch, and Remus smiled to himself at his luck, that someone so athletic, clever, and popular would ever have wanted to be friends with him. He thought Peter might be thinking the same thing, as the other boy watched James with undisguised admiration.

They wandered across the lawn and parked themselves under a sprawling oak tree: James still playing with the Snitch as Peter gazed at him, Sirius casting a bored eye around the grounds for something else to do, and Remus leaning back against the trunk with his Transfiguration textbook propped open against his knees. He glanced up as he flipped the pages, searching absently for the chapter he had been reviewing the day before, and again he caught sight of Snape wandering nearby, nose still glued to his recent exam paper.

Remus felt a jolt up his spine and a pleasant tingling in his fingertips as he furtively watched Snape sit down on the grass, not far from their tree. That was strange – Snape usually gave the Marauders a wide berth around Hogwarts. He did seem to be engrossed in his paper, but surely he could not have failed to notice where he was sitting…

But Remus found he couldn't spare much thought for that, as the sight of Snape sent his mind and body into flashbacks to that night, to that unforgettable feeling of Snape's wiry frame pinning him to that mattress, moving _inside_ him in a way Remus never would have even thought _possible_ before. Concentrating on his exams over the past week had been difficult enough, with all the sex-tinged images floating into his head, while he was trying to remember the best repellent for hinkypunks. But now, with Snape so close, almost within reach, Remus was overcome with an urge to cross the short distance between them, push Snape down into the grass, and just climb on top of him, grinding their hips together and biting at his neck until that familiar moment of release left them both breathless.

_Did you sit there for a reason, Snape?_ Remus found himself thinking, biting back a grin. _Are you hoping I'll come to you, and pull your trousers off, and grab your cock, and grip you so hard you'll shout my name like you did that night?_ He moved the book a bit lower in his lap, trying to create some friction with his swelling cock. _Are you waiting there for me to do that charm, the one you thought you knew so well – you'd teach it to me, and then I'd be inside you this time, just fucking you like crazy? And then would you –_

"Put that away, will you – before Wormtail wets himself with excitement," he heard Sirius say beside him, and he shook himself out of his fantasy in time to watch James make another laudable catch. He took a shaky breath and frowned, spreading the open book across his lap.

"If it bothers you," replied James with a shrug, as Remus watched him put the Snitch in his pocket.

Remus closed his eyes and tried to regain his control. _No_, he told himself sternly. _It's over. Snape said so himself. We can't do that again, ever_. A shockwave hit him in the stomach at that. _We can never do that again_. His cock sagged, just as suddenly as it had hardened in the first place, as if in resignation of its fate. He raised the book and pretended to read, hoping that would keep him from thinking about Severus Snape ever again.

"I'm bored," Sirius announced after another moment. "Wish it was full moon."

Remus glared at him. "You might," he muttered. "We've still got Transfiguration," he added, trying to get his mind off Snape. "If you're bored you could test me. Here…" He held the textbook out to Sirius, who brushed it aside.

"I don't need to look at that rubbish, I know it all."

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot." James eyed Remus for a brief moment, his dark gaze lingering just a bit too long, before turning to Sirius. "Look who it is…"

Sirius followed James's eyes as they travelled back across the lawn. "Excellent," he whispered. _"Snivellus."_

Remus glanced up for a split second, then immediately dropped his eyes again to his book. Oh no. Snape had just packed up his paper and had set off back across the grounds, studiously _not_ looking in their direction. Remus found that his heart suddenly felt like it would burst out of his chest, and his stomach had completely disappeared.

He stared down at his book, the words swimming in front of his eyes. _No_.

"All right, Snivellus?"

_No_. This wasn't about him. It was done with; he had promised to stop fooling around with Snape, and they had promised never to mention it again. He felt a brief wave of relief at the thought. Yes, they had always teased Snape; this was no different. This didn't have anything to do with him.

"See, Moony?" Peter whispered to him, in what the boy must have thought was a helpful way. "They'll make sure Sniv never messes with you again."

Remus's head spun. _What?_ It hit him with the force of a hundred transformations. _You know we're going to have to get him for this, right?_

This had _everything _to do with him.

~~~~~

 

Snape whirled around, already poised for battle. He threw his bag aside and grabbed his wand faster than Remus would have thought possible, but James was faster.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ James yelled, aiming his wand at Snape.

Sirius laughed, James smirked, and Remus winced as Snape's wand soared through the air, landing a fair distance away from him on the lawn.

_Fuck_, thought Remus with rising panic. _Not today, not yet – I'm not ready for this…_ But he knew that once James made up his mind about something, there was no stopping him. Snape was just reaching for his wand when James's voice called out again –

_"Impedimenta!"   
_  
Remus had to look away as the spell hit Snape straight in the stomach, knocking him backwards through the air to land with a pained _thud_ on the grass.

_Fight_, Remus silently begged Snape. _Don't make me get in on this; don't make me save you. You don't need me; I know you don't. You know more spells than them – FIGHT THEM!_ He scowled at Peter as the boy jostled his arm in search of a better view, then noticed that several other students on the lawn had also stopped chatting and had turned to watch.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" asked James, sauntering closer to Snape, who was still sprawled out on the grass.

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," Sirius added, his face curled into a vindictive sneer. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

The crowd on the lawn began to laugh, Peter snickered beside him, and Remus could only lean his head back against the trunk of the tree and close his eyes. He felt sick. _Do something_. No, Snape didn't need Remus's help; the stubborn Slytherin would just get mad and defensive if Remus tried to step in. _You promised him_. No. Shut up shut up shut _up_.

Remus opened his eyes. Snape wasn't getting up. Why wasn't he getting up? _Get up_, Remus urged in his head. He knew Snape could throw off an _Impediment_ Jinx, for god's sake – what was taking him so long? Snape struggled half-heartedly, glaring at James.

"You – wait," he snarled, fury contorting his features, "you – wait!"

"Wait for what?" said Sirius. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Peter turned to Remus then, his pointy face in a sickening grin. "Yeah, what's he waiting for, Moony? Thinks you're going to save him, eh? Haha." He elbowed Remus playfully in the arm, turning back to the scene before them, and Remus's breath caught. That couldn't be it. It just _couldn't_ be.

Snape was shaking with anger now, Remus could see it. It was the same expression Remus had seen just before the full moon last month, when he had told Snape they couldn't see each other; or that day in Potions class, when Remus had stood by while James and Sirius taunted Snape. It was that expression of disbelief, disappointment, and disengagement, all somehow wrapped together, and the sight of it made Remus feel cold inside.

Snape couldn't reach his wand, but he tried a few hexes anyway with his hand outstretched. He cursed to himself when they didn't work, his chest heaving as his face turned increasingly purple. "Focus," Remus heard him mutter, before unleashing another round of violent oaths when the wandless hexes again failed to take effect.

"Wash out your mouth," James spat at him, narrowing his eyes. _"Scourgify!"_

A sickening stream of soapy film poured from Snape's lips, bubbling up around his face and constricting his breath. Remus felt his lungs fill double, as if trying to draw breath _for_ Snape, when he felt a painful knock to the back of the head. He winced and instinctively raised a hand to his hair, then turned to find Lily striding past him, shaking out her hand and glaring at him over her shoulder with those terrifying eyes.

"Leave him ALONE!" she cried as she approached James.

_Oh god_. Now Lily thought she was going to do the job that Remus himself couldn't do? _Fuck_.

James and Sirius turned to her in surprise, James intuitively running a hand through his hair.

"All right, Evans?" asked James, affecting a deeper voice for her benefit. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. _This was not happening_.

"Leave him alone." Lily placed both hands on her hips and glared at James. "What's he done to you?"

"Well," answered James, shooting a quick glance at Remus, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

Lily followed his eyes to Remus, still huddled under the tree. So did Snape. Remus dropped his gaze again to his book, his blood stuck in his veins. Unable to move, unable to think, he did the only thing he knew for sure he could succeed at – _nothing_.

_I'm sorry_.

The students who had gathered to watch the entertainment were laughing outright now, and Sirius and Peter were exchanging amused glances. They weren't just laughing at Snape – they were laughing at Lily, too, for trying to defend him. And they would laugh at Remus, he knew they would, if he intervened as well. He pulled his book up over his nose.

_I can't fight_, he wanted to tell Snape. _I can't beat them_. Staring Remus down, soap still streaming from his mouth, robes dishevelled and chest heaving, Snape was frightening. He was a pale, skinny, _ugly_ kid, with hair that never looked quite clean, and an attitude that reeked of social phobia –

_But he was mine_, Remus couldn't help but think, as his heart sank.

"You think you're funny," Lily seethed at James, "but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone."_

It won't help to intervene – I'll just be hexed along with you, and then what?

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," James offered. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

_I meant what I said to you that night, you know. At least, I think I did. But now… And anyway, I told you they'd come after you! Why aren't you fighting back? You don't need me; you know more spells_.

Remus dared to raise his eyes again, and his jaw tensed as he caught sight of Snape crawling towards his wand, wiping soap from his mouth and shaking off the Impediment Jinx, while James was arguing with Lily. Remus found himself silently urging Snape on.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," Lily was telling James, arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

_They're my friends. You have to fight this one, okay? I know I promised, but I just… I can't. Not now._

"Bad luck, Prongs," said Sirius, with a shrug in James's direction.

_And anyway, they're done with you – it's over now. Just go back to the castle, all right? James is busy with Lily; he won't notice…_

But Snape, it seemed, had other ideas. Remus watched from behind the textbook as Snape grasped his wand and jumped to his feet, aiming it straight at James.

"OI!" Sirius yelped, as he turned and saw what Snape was doing.

_You see? You can fight on your own. Just –_

In a flash, Snape had muttered a spell and sent a jet of light at James's face, slicing into his cheek. Blood sprang from it immediately, sprinkling James's robes as he raised a hand to the wound.

_Fight_.

But James's retribution was too swift. With a roar and another curse, he pointed his wand at Snape and flipped him upside down, hanging in the air like a grotesque marionette, his legs kicking up awkwardly in a futile effort to right himself. Remus felt another wave of nausea as Snape's robes fell to his armpits, and over his head –

_Where the hell are your trousers? Oh god. No, no, no_.

Ancient, tattered underpants appeared in front of every onlooker's eyes, illuminated by the June sunlight, and pronounced against the paleness of Snape's knobby legs. This was too monstrous to even contemplate. As raucous laughter rose up from the crowd, and his three best friends howled with glee, Remus felt like his whole life was unfurling before his very eyes, and he found he could barely think.

He dared a glance at Lily, and found her eyes burning into him, her head shaking back and forth almost imperceptibly. She scowled even further before turning her gaze back to Snape, and taking a step towards James.

"Let him down!" she cried.

James shot a gleeful look at Sirius before dropping his wand. "Certainly," he said to her, as Snape fell with a loud _thud_ to the grass, his limbs collapsed into a pile, robes spread every which way.

He jumped to his feet and readied his wand again, and Remus, watching carefully, noticed that a good two seconds went by in which Snape could have fired another hex at James, but did not. Remus's heart hammered.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Sirius hollered, just as Remus was wondering why Snape had delayed his reaction, and in a split-second Snape froze up and toppled over, limbs locked like a mummy.

_Stop it!_ Remus shrieked in his head. _For god's sake, we get it, all right?_ How long was this going to go on? He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He was being a coward, he knew it now. He had made a _promise_ to Snape to help him if this happened, and what had he done so far? Nothing. _Fuck_. He put the textbook aside and gathered his courage. The longer this went on, the heavier that feeling in Remus's chest became. He had to do something.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" cried Lily, grasping her own wand and aiming it at James. Remus slumped back against the tree, as James and Sirius frowned at her.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you." James grinned at her.

_Stop it, Lily – this is my fight. It's my turn to do something_. Remus steeled himself again.

"Take the curse off him, then!" she challenged.

_Yeah, you tosser_. Remus started to get to his feet.

James sighed, dramatically throwing up his arms, then turned to Snape and lifted the curse. "There you go," he said, arms outstretched to her as if in welcome. Remus sat back down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus–"

But Snape scrambled to his feet on shaky limbs, breathing heavily and clenching his fists at his sides. He turned to lay the full weight of his infuriated gaze on Remus, dark eyes pinning him against that tree, as he spat out the worst words Remus had ever heard from him.

_"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"_

~~~~~

The film caught in the projector, the reel playing the archival footage of his life sputtering and holding that frame in place. Remus's eyes locked on Snape. _What did he say?_ It wasn't possible. Snape knew that Remus was a half-blood – he _knew_. He wouldn't say something like that, not with Remus sitting there. He glanced quickly over at Lily and noted with approval that she was fuming. Oh god, how could he have said that? Remus's stomach turned over and he thought he might throw up right there on the grass. He'd let Snape touch him; he'd let a person who used words like _Mudblood_ suck his cock, and… _Oh god_. He felt himself swaying, and he leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree for stability.

And to think, there were times when he felt he could actually _trust_ Snape – when he convinced himself that if Snape could keep the secret about the things the two of them did when they were alone together, he could surely keep a secret about a werewolf. But Sirius had been right – Snape couldn't be trusted with that. If he hated _Mudbloods_ so much, Remus didn't want to know how much he hated lycanthropes. Remus had been so _stupid_ – he saw it all now. He was damn fucking lucky James and Sirius had caught him, but they still hadn't been able to stop him; they didn't know what he had done that night, what he had let Snape do to him… He had let Snape into his life, _into his body_, moaning and writhing on the ground like a whore, his hands and lips and cock doing all those things – all those _sick_ things with- with- a _blood purist_.

The reel flickered to life again, the film continuing to roll, despite Remus's internal pleas for it to stop.

"Fine," he heard Lily fire back. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus."_

"Apologise to Evans!" he distantly heard James roar, and he found himself grateful yet again for having the friends he did, the brave and loyal Gryffindors who would defend their own to the death, who would not let such a heinous insult go unpunished.

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologise," Lily spat at James. "You're as bad as he is."

Snape was staring at Remus. Events continued around them: Lily hollering at James, Sirius watching with a smirk, Peter gawking back and forth between them like a spectator at a tennis match. But Remus and Snape were in their own world.

"What? I'd NEVER call you a – you-know-what!"

_How could you?_

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick," Lily continued to shriek at James, "showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

_I can't fight for you now, not with Lily here… my god, why did you say that?_

She turned on her heel and hurried away.

_Why didn't I know this about you? I'm a half-blood! You know that._

"Evans!" James called. "Hey, EVANS!"

_You- you-_

She ignored him, striding back towards the Lake.

_You didn't mean that, did you? Tell me you didn't mean that_.

"What is it with her?" said James, exasperated.

_I let you… I let you… No, you didn't mean it. I know you didn't_.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," Sirius offered.

_There has to be a reason, doesn't there? If I fight for you, will you tell me, later, why you said that? Will you talk to me later? I'm just- I'm sorry._

"Right," said James, anger lining his face, "right–" He turned back to Snape and flicked his wand. In a flash of light, Snape was flipped upside down again, suspended in the air without recourse.

_Oh god._

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

Remus closed his eyes.

~~~~~

Remus's heart hammered, despite the paralysis of his limbs. He finally opened his eyes again and glanced up at Snape, hanging upside down in front of the entire school – a humiliation so monstrous Remus could not even fathom it. He had to do something. Snape would still never talk to him again, not after he'd let this go as far as it did, but he could keep it from going any further.

"James," he began, his voice hoarse and broken.

His friend turned around slowly. "Yes, Moony?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Don't."

"What's that?" James barked. "Didn't hear you."

Sirius was circling Snape like a preying vulture, spitting more obscenities at him, and no one seemed to notice Remus and James. Remus thought he heard something like _dirty queer_ from Sirius, and he closed his eyes.

If he said anything about this, he was likely to find himself up there as well, and then Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would never talk to him again. And they _knew!_ They knew everything about him now – that he was a werewolf, for one, and that he really, _really_ liked Snape's cock, for another. _Queer_.

Dumbledore thought Remus's lycanthropy was still a secret. If James, Sirius, and Peter turned against him – if he angered them by standing up for Snape, they could easily let his secret out, and then what? Then what. He would have to leave the school. Not only would he end up like James's mother's cousin, a stain on his family and a social pariah, but he wouldn't even be able to finish school.

"Nothing," he muttered, and James frowned at him as he turned back to Snape, jerking his wand.

_"Evanesco!"_ he bellowed, and it was awful. Remus closed his eyes in horror as Snape's pants disappeared, leaving his bare arse revealed to half the school, and his cock flopping upside down against his belly.

"There it is, folks," Sirius announced, laughing. "Now you know what a faggot cock looks like."

James turned back to Remus and said quietly, "Still want to suck it, Moony?"

"Stop it," he whispered back. "I _told_ you I wouldn't see him again, all right? It's over. Just- _stop it_."

James stared at him, considering. "We're your friends, Moony. Just had to show you where you went wrong. You heard what he called Lily."

Remus nodded miserably, about to plead with James one more time, when a loud _thunk_ resounded across the lawn. They whirled around to find Sirius sprawled against a tree, seemingly unconscious, and Snape back on his feet, robes righted and face flushed with fury. He advanced on James with a finger outstretched.

"I'll kill you," he snarled. "I can kill Black–" He jerked his head back towards the tree – "and I can kill you, too."

James's eyes went wide and he clutched his wand, as if desperate to convince himself he still needed it, in the wake of Snape's show of wandless magic. He ran towards Sirius, with Peter following close behind. "What did you do to him?" James shrieked. "That was Dark magic!"

Snape did not reply, but he kept his hand outstretched towards James and Sirius as he bent down to retrieve his wand. He lingered for another second, watching James huddled over Sirius, shaking him in an effort to cajole him back to consciousness, before turning to Remus. Snape strode towards him, stopping a few paces away and staring down at where Remus was still huddled against the trunk of the tree. Their gazes locked, and Remus felt all the weight of the humiliation, the desperation, and the _hurt_ in those dark eyes.

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He dropped his eyes, never feeling so sick, so confused, and so horrified in his life. There was nothing he could say.

_Do you trust me?_ he had asked Snape that night, wrapped up as Remus had been in the intensity of his emotions, in the utter certainty in the aftermath of what they had done together, that he would go to the ends of the earth for Snape, and that no one could stop him.

_Yes_, Snape had answered. _Yes_.

Not anymore. Never again.

James could stop him. Sirius could stop him. _Mudblood_. That word could stop him. And anyway, what was Snape doing using _wandless magic?_ It was Dark magic – James was right.

_He's not a Dark wizard, and neither am I_.

Oh god.

He knew he had broken his promise, and he knew Snape would never forgive him for that, but it didn't matter. None of that mattered anymore, because he just saw a Severus Snape who knew a fearsome amount of Dark magic and was not afraid to use it. James had been right: Remus was a _werewolf_; he could not risk associating with a Dark wizard, or a schoolmate on his way to becoming one.

It was over; it had always been over; it should never have begun. He had never seen that side of Snape before, and he didn't know what to do with it. He knew his friends had done all of this for his benefit, but he wasn't sure he could quite thank them for that. Mostly, he just wanted to go back inside, lie down on his bed, and hope it had all been a terrible dream.

When he looked over at them again, James and Peter were coaxing Sirius into a sitting position, with half the school looking on in concern; Lily was back at the Lakeside with her friends; and Snape was striding up the lawn and into the castle.

He and Snape never came near each other after that, they never touched each other again, and they never, _ever_ talked about that day.

***

**Epilogue: Severus**

The projector stopped rolling, the screen faded to black, and Remus's real life came rushing towards him.

"Yeah, okay," Harry was saying. "I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

Remus jerked himself back to reality. "Now you mention it," he said slowly, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

Harry shrugged. "He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again, like that's a big disappoint–"

"He WHAT?" Sirius barked, and Remus's eyes widened. Oh, this was just fantastic. The perfect ending to the perfect bloody afternoon. Dumbledore would kill them all if he found out their childhood bullshit was now threatening to leave Harry unprotected, and in a great deal of danger.

"Are you serious, Harry?" asked Remus. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"

"Yeah," confirmed Harry, "but it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the–"

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" Sirius bellowed, trying to jump to his feet. Remus thought he would have dived straight through the fireplace after Harry and screamed at Snape in front of the whole school, had Remus not tugged at his robes and held him on his knees on the kitchen floor.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me," he said, giving Sirius a pointed look, and ignoring the ice in his blood at the words. "But Harry," he continued quickly, "first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons – when Dumbledore hears–"

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" Harry interrupted. "You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve."

Remus took a deep breath. "Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency!" he said carefully. "Do you understand me? Nothing!" They would lose the war – Voldemort would get inside Harry's unguarded head and everything would go to hell… all because Remus couldn't keep his dick in his trousers when he was sixteen. He raised a weary hand to his temple.

Harry just glared at both of them. "Okay, okay," he huffed, looking exactly the way James used to look when he didn't get his way. "I'll… I'll try and say something to him… but it won't be–" He paused. "Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?" he asked them, his face looking panicked.

"No," answered Sirius, casting a glance over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end."

Harry's face turned white. "I'd better go!" he said abruptly, and in another second, his head had disappeared from the fireplace. Sirius and Remus sat back for another moment in silence, processing all they had just heard.

~~~~~

After Harry's head disappeared, Sirius exhaled and sat back on his heels, running a hand through his hair and staring at the empty hearth a moment longer. "Fucking Snape," he muttered, his face dark. "No one'll see me, Moony – just let me go over there and tell the bastard off, once and for all, would you? Dumbledore doesn't need to know."

Remus shot him a stern look. "_No_."

"Come _on_," Sirius growled. "This is too important, for that slimy git to just blame Harry for everything he ever hated about James!"

"I _know_ that," replied Remus, "but you getting arrested again doesn't help anyone, right? Harry least of all. And he's not a slimy git," he added softly.

His friend scowled at him. "Since when?" Sirius asked.

"Since…" Remus let the words trail off, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

Sirius stared back into the fireplace for a second, and Remus knew he was pondering the consequences of going to confront Snape, against everyone's orders. He never wanted to go back to Azkaban, and Remus didn't blame him for that.

Finally, Sirius turned to Remus again, his face puzzled. "I don't even really remember that day," he admitted. "Do you?"

Something unpleasant flashed through Remus's body at that, but he pushed it away and shrugged.

"It's amazing that Snape still remembers it, though," Sirius continued. "Wasn't really all that different from any other time we took the piss, was it?" He grunted a laugh and got up off the floor.

Remus stiffened, answering the rhetorical question before he could stop himself. "Yes, it was."

Sirius paused on his way to the liquor cabinet and turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

When Remus didn't answer right away, Sirius's eyes narrowed.

"Wait a second," he began, watching Remus closely. "I remember now. That was during OWLs, and it was right before OWLs that Peter told us…" His voice trailed off, and Remus folded his arms over his chest, trying to shield himself from what was coming.

"Yes," he confessed. "That was the time you and James decided to punish Snape for… because of me." He glared at his friend.

Sirius let out a low whistle and shook his head. "Shit, Moony, I forgot all about that! You never mentioned it again, so neither did we, and- fuck. Forgot all about it." He resumed his trip to the liquor cabinet but must have noticed Remus 's continued silence, because he paused with one hand on the firewhisky and turned back again. "You aren't still all fucked up about that, are you, Moony?" He started to laugh. "What, did old Sniv break your heart or something?"

Remus had jumped up off the floor and had Sirius pinned against the wall, one hand closed around his throat, in a matter of seconds. His nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes locked on Sirius's. "You and James thought you were pretty fucking _ace_ that day, didn't you?" he snarled, tightening his grip.

"Fuck off, you lunatic," Sirius spat, struggling against him. "No – I just told Harry I'm not proud of it, all right? But we were fifteen! What the hell's your problem?" He managed to push Remus away, then stood backed into the wall, glaring at him.

Remus shook his hand out and turned, walking to the door. "I was sixteen," he corrected, "and do sixteen-year-olds _have_ hearts?" he asked, his back to Sirius.

"What? Yeah, of course. I mean, I think they do."

Remus nodded, his hand gripping the door frame. "Fine. Then yes, he broke it. And so did you and James, for making him, and so did Peter, for ever telling you in the first place, something that wasn't any of your _fucking_ business." He opened the door to leave.

"What? Moony, wait! What the hell are you talking about?"

Remus turned, shaking his head, his mind whirring. "I can't _believe_ Harry saw that! Of all the nosy things to do, totally disregarding Snape's privacy–"

"Don't you blame Harry for this," Sirius warned, setting his glass down with a threatening _clank_. "It's all Snape's fault."

"_What's_ all Snape's fault?"

"I don't know," Sirius sputtered, gesturing around. "_This!_ You're all pissed off; Harry's right _fucked_ now; James and Lily are dead – _everything's_ Snape's fault!"

"Snape never did anything to you!" Remus shouted, whirling away from the door and glaring at his friend.

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked, his voice low and eerily calm. "Never did anything? I guess you've forgotten all the times he hexed James in the hallways, have you? Me too, for that matter."

"What – so he _hexed_ you and James! You did the same to him. _That's_ the best reason you have?"

"All right." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Remus. "_And he fucked my best friend_. That's about enough reason for me."

"It was never about me, and you know it," Remus said coldly. "_Never_. It was about you, and it was about James, and the way the two of you couldn't stand the idea that _I didn't need you anymore_."

Sirius stared at him for another second, his mouth twitching, then he broke into a cruel laugh. "Didn't need- oh, is that what you think?" He laughed some more. "All right then – so why didn't you step in that day, Remus? If Snape was so much more important to you than I was, than _James_ was – why didn't you do anything?"

"I–" He paused, then shook his head. "It's none of your business," he said quietly.

"Oh yes it is," Sirius snarled. "You brought this up; you're the one who wants to yell at me for it, so you can answer the fucking question, Moony, if you're such a goddamned prince among men. What the fuck were you so busy doing that you couldn't be arsed to stand up and protect your precious _loverboy _from nasty Padfoot and Prongs?"

Remus blinked. _Why hadn't he?_ He moved slowly over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, slumping into it as his mind again travelled a million miles away, to another place and time. "Because…" he began, not looking at his friend, "I don't know."

Sirius guffawed, sitting down across from him. "Lover's quarrel, maybe? Old Sniv wasn't meeting your needs in the sack, eh?" he chided.

"Shut up," Remus fired back, then quickly clamped his mouth shut. "Just- you don't know what you're talking about, and I don't have to tell you, so just shut up about it, all right?" His head swam. God, he was even _sounding_ sixteen again. "This has got to be the worst bloody memory I _have_, Padfoot," he moaned. "And now Harry saw us all like that, it's just- god, it's just awful." He frowned and turned away again, his mind twenty years in the past.

_You kissed me. And… I liked it_.

_You did not. You couldn't have_.

He might have laughed at the memory, if he didn't feel so sick. _I did_, he thought. _I loved it_.

"_Worst memory_?" Sirius bellowed, starting to laugh. "What are you talking about? Your worst memory is looking at Snape's dirty pants? Not that I want to bring it up or anything, but I would have thought the thing with Snape and the Shack might be worse, or, oh, I don't know–" He stopped laughing and glared at Remus angrily – "Hallowe'en '81 might be sort of a bad memory, wouldn't it?"

Remus was silent. How could he explain it? How could he qualify what he had felt that day, and why it had left him blinded with sorrow and rage in a way that was so much different than his feelings about the Shack, or James and Lily's deaths? "Those were bad," he conceded, watching Sirius carefully. _But they didn't strike to the very core of who I am_, he wanted to shout.

"You want to put taking the piss out of Snape up there as a _worse fucking memory_ than the night James died?" Sirius roared, leaning forward across the table. "Are you out of your _fucking_ mind, Moony?"

He looked up at his childhood friend, and felt a surge of bitterness through his veins. He hadn't been strong enough to stand up to Sirius back then, but he was now. "You just don't remember, do you?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Remember what – that day? I told you, just bits. It was all the same with Snivellus, wasn't it? Why the fuck you're making it your defining life moment or some shit, I'll never know." Sirius glared at him, nostrils flaring.

Remus regarded him, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't." He shook his head. "You really don't get it."

Sirius grew angrier at that. "I remember the greasy bastard trying to kill me. Maybe that could be a pretty bad memory for you too, eh – or were you too worried about poor _Snivellus_ to care about your best fucking _friend?_"

"Of course not," said Remus, gazing up at the ceiling.

"I don't know about that." Sirius regarded him for a long moment, fists set on the table. "Just remember what he called Lily, Remus," he said carefully. "I don't remember everything that happened that day, but I remember that, and now Harry's heard it, too. That's the kind of person Snape is, yeah? I can't believe you're still defending him." He shook his head. "Young and randy and stupid is one thing, but you're all grown up now, Moony – you should know better."

"Padfoot, look, I–"

"_You_, Moony!" Sirius interrupted with a shout. "You. More than anyone else, _you_ should know better!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He called her a _Mudblood_, Remus. That doesn't jar with you a bit?"

Remus stared at him.

"If I've got my facts straight, you were the only other non-pure-blood there that day, yeah? You and Lily. If he called _her_ that, I would've thought it would make _you_ think twice, too."

"I didn't like it," Remus conceded. "Of course I didn't like it, but–" He stopped, the memory still blazing through his mind. He had been sitting _right there_ that day, Snape had seen him – Snape couldn't have failed to notice how close he had been to their group, out on that lawn, as he reviewed his exam paper. Snape had _known_ where he was, and he must have known that James and Sirius would provoke him.

Remus recalled being incredibly hurt by that word. Snape did know that Remus was a half-blood, even if he hadn't known then about the lycanthropy. Why, Remus remembered thinking - _why_ would Snape say something so awful in front of –

And then it hit him.

He had said it _because _Remus was sitting there.

It wasn't about Lily at all, and it wasn't about James. Snape had wanted Remus to fight – for him, against him, it didn't matter – just as long as he stopped sitting there like a log, hiding behind a Transfiguration textbook. There had been plenty of time – those seconds between hexes; those first fumbles, when Snape had allowed himself to get blasted onto the grass, hung upside down, ridiculed in front of the entire school. It didn't have to happen; Snape had known how to fight back.

But he had waited for Remus to fight, as Remus had promised he would.

Nothing is worse than neutrality, Remus realised now, sitting at his kitchen table with his head in his hands – to Snape, at least. You pick a side; you pick as many sides as you can; you fight so much you start to contradict yourself; you might even forget who you're fighting for, and why.

But you still _fight_, somehow.

That was Remus's failure – in Snape's eyes. It wasn't just that he broke his promise by not standing up to James and Sirius; he could have _joined in_, and Snape would have been marginally impressed. No, his true failure that day was that he pulled his book up over his nose and did _nothing_.

~~~~~

"But what?"

Remus looked up. "What?"

"Of course you didn't like it, but _what?_"

When Remus continued to stare at him blankly, Sirius started to laugh again. "Earth to Moony!" he called. "Still dreaming about Snape? For fuck's sake, let it go, would you?"

Remus regarded his old friend for a long moment. "You really thought you were looking out for me, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"Well, sure," Sirius replied. "And having a bit of fun with the stupid bastard, I guess. _What_? I really don't see what you're so upset about." He frowned and rubbed at his throat, before getting up again to fill his glass. Remus stared at his back.

"You never did," he replied softly, and all at once, that grainy, black-and-white footage of his memories blossomed with colour, revealing to him a perspective he hadn't been able to consider when he was sixteen.

"What's that?" Sirius turned again, his drink in his hand. "Well, anyway. You should go out tonight, get your mind off it, eh? I'm sure Rosmerta's got some fine ladies who'd be happy to show you a good time." He laughed. "Get that taste of _Snape_ out of your mouth, that's for sure." He shook his head, still chuckling, then took a long swallow of whisky.

As Remus watched his friend wipe his mouth and sigh with liquor-infused satisfaction, already having forgotten what he had just said, Remus realised that he had spent his youth throwing his chips in with all the wrong people.

He had been _so sure_.

He'd thought they had learned the Animagus transformation for him, that they would do anything for him, that they were just looking out for his best interests.

He had been so wrong.

They were loyal to their friends, certainly, but only on _their_ terms. They thought they needed to fight for Remus, to protect him from the forces of evil they saw in Snape, and they did – oh, did they ever fight for him. And they never once stopped to ask him if he _wanted _them to fight. He had been so scared of losing them, so afraid that they would betray all his secrets if he didn't do their bidding, that he hadn't the strength to fight for the one person who mattered more to him that day than anyone. _Severus_. He thought of Snape now and a dull ache settled in his chest. He had forgotten. He had _made _himself forget.

Seasons had changed, years had passed, best friends had died, and wars had lain dormant. And with every ticking second, his memories of Snape had burrowed deeper into his subconscious – until today.

"Going to feed Buckbeak," Sirius's voice called from the other side of the room, and Remus looked up to find a sack of dead rats slung over Sirius's shoulder. He pointed an index finger at Remus as he headed towards the door. "We're not done with that Occlumency deal, all right? I still want to give Snape a piece of my mind." He strode out, letting the door fall shut behind him, and leaving Remus alone with his memories.

~~~~~

Remus sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wall. He thought about Snape, and he thought about the scars. There would be more now, both internal and external; life as a Death Eater would have done that to him, Remus suspected. He knew now, without even thinking about it, that he wanted to see them, that he _had_ to see them – that neither of them would ever be able to remove that memory from their shared Pensieve until they confronted it.

_I loved you, and I should have fought for you_.

Without another thought, he strode upstairs from the kitchen, grabbed his cloak in the entrance hall, and headed for the front door, just as Sirius emerged at the top of the stairway to the second landing.

"Where are you going?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Remus turned slowly. "To talk to Snape about the Occlumency," he replied, daring Sirius to challenge him.

They watched each other for a moment before Sirius spoke. "You think he'll fuck you again after all these years, just because of that Pensieve?" he asked icily.

Remus swallowed. He was sixteen again, that night in the dorm, and Sirius was telling him the same thing, telling him what he _couldn't_ do, threatening to withdraw his friendship if he did – but this time, he would make the right choice. "I hope so," he retorted, flinging the door open and marching out.

He didn't really think about what he was doing, or what he would _say_, or how he would apologise, and he certainly didn't think about what he would do if Snape refused to talk to him. All he knew was that he had to try.

Their lives were still interwoven somehow – a tragic story without an ending, and all the hurt, the betrayal, the misunderstandings still stood between them like a barbed-wire fence. Snape had tried to goad him into fighting, twenty years ago, and Remus hadn't been strong enough to do it. He had hidden behind James and Sirius, just like he always did.

Not anymore.

They were part of a different life, and he should have realised years ago that he needed more than they could give him.

He reached Hogwarts and sneaked through the great front doors. Mass confusion reigned, as students ran every which way, and that Umbridge woman scuttled about the entrance hall, shrieking at all within range. There would be time to ask questions about that later. For now, Remus hunched over in order to draw as little attention to himself as possible, edged along the wall as he made his way through the crowd, and started down the stairs to the dungeons.

When he reached Snape's office, he stood in front of the dark door for several minutes, the low torchlight making eerie shadows on the wall, and reminding him of the _fear_, of all the things he used to be afraid of, when he was young and stupid.

Not anymore.

He smiled to himself and took a deep breath, then he raised his hand, channelled all his courage into making a resolute fist, and knocked on the door.

 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue in the Prologue and Chapter 4 is taken verbatim from J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ (UK edition), pp. 589-91 (chapter: "Careers Advice") and pp. 566-72 (chapter: "Snape's Worst Memory.") Thanks to Dora the Nymph and Smoke for the beta work.


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